


Marked for death

by Vandereer



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Assassin AU, Attempted Murder, Clear Clear Fruit Sanji, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, OOC sanji, Parental Abuse, Sanji IS a Vinsmoke and he hates it, deuce does not deserve what happens to him in this fic baby im sorry, germa assassin sanji, he just wants to be in more fics and this is what happens, or more like friends to lovers to enemies and then uh nevermind, vinsmoke sanji au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24917773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandereer/pseuds/Vandereer
Summary: Sanji wanted to eat the Clear-Clear fruit ever since he was young, to escape the abuse from his family. But he could never have imagined how much it would change his life when he got his hands on it..Sanji is an assassin for the Germa Kingdom, the invisible, silent Stealth Black. His mission; to destabilize the Whitebeard Pirates by killing the second division commander and Prince of Pirates, Portgas D. Ace.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Portgas D. Ace, Masked Deuce & Portgas D. Ace, Portgas D. Ace & Vinsmoke Sanji, Portgas D. Ace & Whitebeard Pirates, Portgas D. Ace/Vinsmoke Sanji, Vinsmoke Ichiji & Vinsmoke Sanji, Vinsmoke Reiju & Vinsmoke Sanji, Vinsmoke Sanji & Vinsmoke Family
Comments: 65
Kudos: 205





	1. My Name is Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> Oda: heeheehoohoo Sanji always wanted the Clear-Clear fruit to peep on women in the bathroom!  
> Me: *Picks up Oda, puts him in a little box marked ‘time out’ and closes the lid.* Shush now.
> 
> Fair warning that Sanji is going to be (intentionally) out of character in this fic, which is probably obvious considering it’s Germa/Vinsmoke!Sanji and his upbringing is entirely different in this au, but I just thought I’d mention it. (Also Absalom WHO? Never heard of the guy.)
> 
> I was wracking my brain as to who thought of this idea first and who to give credit to, but I think this sums it up:  
> “assanji was a collaborative effort of us all being a little horny for sanji with knives” - kite, esquire  
> This is also a good lesson as to why you don’t leave it to me to write out au ideas, I will take a fuckin year to get around to it. This is like my 3rd or 4th draft of it im TIREd. Please enjoy.  
> (Sanji specced into lady killer AND confirmed bachelor if u catch my drift.)
> 
> (Chapter title is from the song My name is Ruin by Gary Numan. It fucks go check it out :>)
> 
> Rating may go up to explicit with future chapters.

From the day he was born, the thing Sanji wished for most in the world was to be invisible. 

In the library there was a certain book, a fairly new book, but you wouldn’t be able to tell that from how frayed the edges were. Sanji had slipped away to the library and pulled it off its shelf so many times it looked old.

He flipped open the dog-eared pages again and moved his finger down the illustrations of Devil Fruits until he found it again; the Clear-Clear fruit. He smiled as he traced the drawing with his fingertips. He had memorized every odd bumpy ridge and swirly pattern on the skin of the fruit, he even saw the thing in his dreams most nights.

If he ate the Clear-Clear fruit, he could be invisible whenever he wanted. He wouldn’t have to dodge dinner plates at the table, or flee in terror when his brothers sought him out to use as a punching bag. Just one bite, and he could finally have some peace in his day to day life. Sanji pressed his palm over the drawing and smiled, imagining the looks on his brother’s faces as he disappeared before their eyes. Maybe if he grew brave enough, he could use it to escape Germa and find his way to a new island, even get his own ship and set out in search of the All Blue. 

His smile slowly faded, as it always did when he thought about the reality of actually finding the thing. Devil Fruits were rare. Anyone who found one either snapped it up to use the power for themselves or sold it for a lot of money. Someone with as much power as Judge could probably find one, but Sanji didn’t dare ask.

He cast one last longing look over the fruit, before closing the book and hopping off his seat to put it back onto the shelf.

“THERE YOU ARE!”

The book fell out of his hands with a thud as Yonji appeared in the doorway with a triumphant grin. His brother barged into the room and shoved Sanji aside.

Yonji’s brows furrowed as he stared at the book on the floor. “What are you reading about Devil Fruits for?”

He picked up the book by its cover, causing the hard backing to come apart from the pages. Half the pages fell to the ground with a thud and Yonji grinned with satisfaction. 

“Devil Fruits are for cowards - for weaklings who aren’t strong enough on their own. No wonder _you_ want one.”

Sanji fell to the floor and tried to gather the loose pages up, grunting with pain as Yonji kicked at them and tried to stomp on his fingers.

Yonji started to laugh, and Sanji cringed in fear of the sound drawing his other two brothers near.

“Like you’d ever find a Devil Fruit anyway!” Yonji spat, with one last kick scattering the pages all over the room.

Yonji swaggered out in a self-satisfied way, leaving Sanji staring down at the remains of his book. He searched through the pages until he found the Clear-Clear fruit again, then folded it up and put it into his pocket.

_We’ll see about that…_

* * *

“I want to help you find it.” Reiju said.

The statement shocked Sanji. Reiju didn’t help with anything, _ever._   
“Why would you-”  
“Because you don’t _belong_ here, Sanji!” she cried. “Mother would’ve told you the same thing if she were still alive. You’re not like us, you’re kind and _good!_ If you stay here… this place is going to eat you alive. If finding that thing could help you escape…”

“How can you help me?”

“Well, Judge never told me _not_ to help you find a Devil Fruit.”

A kind of radiant hope filled Sanji with those words. Reiju always was good at finding loopholes, little gaps in Judge’s conditioning that occasionally allowed her a small amount of freedom. Sanji begrudgingly admired her for that, and gratefully accepted her help.

He was so amazed that she was expressing an emotion for him other than a kind of exasperated pity.

The gesture stunned him so much, that he never stopped to think about the possibility that they were making a terrible mistake.

Sanji’s heart had leapt when Reiju came running into his room, telling him that she had snooped in on one of Judge’s meetings. Germa planned to take possession of the Clear-Clear fruit. Not so any of them could eat it of course, but to sell it to the highest bidder. Probably to some branch of the Marines who wanted to use it for espionage, or one of the more powerful pirate crews out there.

“This is your chance, Sanji! Just think about it - after we find the fruit for you, you can turn invisible and escape!” Reiju told him, as they ran towards the army gathering at the docks.

Luckily no-one questioned what Reiju was doing sneaking aboard one of Germa’s battleships, but it was quite different in Sanji’s case. Reiju managed to deflect any questions with a prim “I am Germa’s princess, kindly move out of our way!”

The two of them jumped ship the moment Germa landed. Then Reiju led the way to where the Clear-Clear fruit was reported to be. They were just children, running through the noise and chaos of a battlefield, even if Reiju had the strength of twenty full grown men put together. If any enemy combatants noticed them, Reiju flung them aside.

It was so surreal when Sanji had the fruit of his dreams in his hands.

He paused, holding onto it with shaking hands, feeling the waxy lumpy ridges. The fruit that men had killed each other over for centuries, the fruit that Germa was waging war for right outside

“Go on, bite into it!” Reiju insisted with wide eyes. She was shaking as the gunfire and explosions rained down outside. Sanji’s hands were trembling as he raised it to his lips and took a bite. He half expected to throw it back up with how badly his stomach was churning, but the fruit acted like it wanted to be eaten. 

Sanji made a face as he swallowed the bite down, then dropped it as the sickening bitterness became too much.

“Okay, you ate it. Now turn invisible, get out of here!” Reiju said.

“I- I can’t, I don’t know how!” Sanji bleated. His body didn’t feel any different, was he supposed to eat the whole thing?

Reiju grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “You _have_ to! Father will be furious when he-”

Reiju didn’t have time to finish her sentence. Judge had burst in with his sons in tow, and taken one look at the fruit on the floor before realising what Sanji had done. 

Sanji stood frozen like a rabbit as Judge grabbed him by the throat.

The battle was soon over, the might of Germa’s army having crushed the opposition. Judge led his children over the ruined battlefield, back towards Germa Kingdom with Sanji squirming in his grip. His father kept his fist clenched so tightly around Sanji’s throat that he could barely breathe.

Sanji’s brothers snickered amongst themselves, debating what Sanji’s punishment was going to be for running away.

There was a kind of awful silence as they stood on the dock, back on the way to Germa. Judge looked straight into Sanji’s eyes, then dropped him off the dock into the sea.

He sank quickly through the black waters, arms fused to his sides and helpless to avoid swallowing seawater. His eyes were stuck open, forced to see his father’s image growing blurry and distant, and the water getting darker.

_How will I ever find the All Blue if I can’t swim…?_

It might have been the last thought to ever cross his mind, had a Germa soldier not dove in after him and dragged him back up. 

He was pulled, coughing and shivering out of the water a scant couple minutes later, but it felt like a lifetime. 

“Aw man.” Yonji whined. “Why’d you save him father?”

“Would’ve been funnier to watch him drown!” Niji added.

“Yeah!” Reiju giggled along with them, while shooting him a secret look of concern.

Sanji spluttered out another mouthful of water, grateful for the blanket one of the Germa soldiers wrapped around his shoulders.

“I wanted to teach your brother a lesson, about what it means to eat a Devil Fruit.”

Judge looked down at him, more cold and quietly furious than Sanji had ever seen him. “You made this choice, Sanji, and you must face the consequences.”

His brothers all crowded around him, gleefully awaiting whatever punishment Judge was thinking up.

"The Clear-Clear fruit… It's powers are awfully similar to the suit I had developed for you, had your genetic modifications not failed.”

Judge’s furious look started to change, from thoughtful, to a kind of malicious realisation.

Sanji didn't like the grin that was spreading across Judges face, not one bit. 

"I believe… I may have a use for you after all.”

  
  


* * *

_That damn Devil Fruit ruined my life._ Sanji thought with a grimace, as he stepped into the war room.

When he was young and naive, he didn't know how easy it was for fruit users to be controlled if you had the right resources, and Judge _definitely_ had the right resources. 

Sanji was used to the threats of being chained up with Seastone if he didn't obey orders, used to having nightmares about his brothers ganging up on him to drown him. Every single one of them ended with staring up at Judge’s face as he slowly sank down into black water.

He never thought he would miss being able to swim.

When Judge gifted him with his own Raid Suit on his eighteenth birthday, it was with an air of ‘You wasted your time, congratulations,’ when he found that its power was the one of stealth and invisibility. 

It was all one big joke, and Sanji was the punchline.

Sanji made his way into the war room like he did every other morning, padding in on silent feet. His raid suit boots were specially made to not make any sound at all as he walked, and he liked to keep his brothers on their toes.

Yonji, the big green oaf, was sat in Sanji’s place, oblivious to the invisible leg that arced through the air right into his stupid face. The flaming kick connected solidly and sent Yonji flying into a corner of the war room. His brother crashed to the floor in a smouldering heap.

“Morning!” Sanji said as he finally showed himself, holding a little cup of espresso. 

Judge's glare could curdle milk, but Sanji met his eyes coolly, brushing a gloved hand down his suit for a splash of coffee he might have spilled. "You need me for something? Well go on, spit it out." 

He lit up a cigarette as he slid into the empty chair, and put his still smouldering foot up on the table for good measure. 

“I have a special assignment for you.”

"I keep telling you. I am _not_ dying my hair black." 

“You’re very funny, Sanji. Now shut up and listen.”

Judge snapped his fingers and a Germa soldier slid a slim file in front of him, containing a briefing and a wanted poster. Sanji pulled the file towards him and stared at the man with wild black hair and a thin, straight nose. His face was thrown into shadow by the orange hat he wore, softening his hooded eyes and confident smile. Red beads dangled from his neck, and the light of dancing flames reflected off them.

The name underneath his picture said ‘Portgas D. Ace.’

“Who’s the dead man?” Sanji asked, studying his face closely to memorize it, and puffing a mouthful of smoke into the poster.

"Fire Fist' Ace.” Judge said. “Second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates... And the son of the Pirate King." 

Sanji looked up sharply. 

"His mother was raising him in secret in Goa Kingdom,” Judge continued, “in a backwoods little dump near the Grey Terminal. They say that he could start a second great Age of Pirates if left unchecked. Apparently Roger always wanted him to be the one to find the One Piece. We've been asked to deal with him swiftly, and silently." 

Sanji hummed thoughtfully as he flipped through the pictures in the file, showing a lot of burning ships and enemy pirate crews fleeing in terror. Good thing Sanji wasn’t afraid of fire.

  
“If we play our cards right, we could take Whitebeard’s territories for ourselves.” Judge continued, a greedy glint in his black eyes. Sanji tried to not roll his eye, he had noticed that Judge really liked to get ahead of himself. It was no doubt going to be his downfall someday. Even with one commander dead, there would still be fifteen others to deal with, plus the many other crews loyal to Whitebeard. 

Regardless, Sanji was happy as long as he got a satisfying kill out of it.

  
“Ichiji will be following the ship, to make sure you succeed.” Judge continued.

Ichiji’s head perked up at the mention of his name, from where he sat next to Niji and Reiju. He turned to Sanji with a sharp grin and a flip of his awful red hair. “The best part of this mission; If you fuck up and raise the alarm, we get to watch Whitebeard or one of his commanders tear you to pieces!”

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck it up?” Sanji spat back.

“Oh, just a feeling, you know.”

“Enough of your bickering!” Judge growled. I want you on your way before mid-morning, Sanji.”

Sanji didn’t need to be told twice. He drained the last of his espresso and snuffed out his cigarette right onto Fire Fist’s wanted poster. The glowing ashes started to burn a hole right through the man’s face.

“And Sanji-” Judge said, just as he was turning to leave. “-If you succeed in this, I just might finally consider you worthy of being called my son.”

Sanji stopped in his tracks.

Judge’s _son._ He constantly told himself he didn’t want to be related to a warmongering tyrant, but being someone’s son? Right now he was nothing more than a warped, defective runt, wandering around Germa castle like a ghost. Maybe when he came back he could even sit at the dinner table with his brothers, rather than just cooking for himself in a dark corner of his cell every night.

“Consider it done, sir.”

Sanji started to head out, pausing as Yonji stirred from the corner of the room. He lifted his head and groaned, his face resembling a crashed warship with how badly it was dented out of shape. His face twisted with anger, causing him to look even uglier, if that were even possible.

“SANJI! COME BACK HERE! I’LL _KILL_ YOU!”

Sanji snorted and clipped out of the room. He heard Judge quietly reprimand Yonji, for ‘needing Sanji in good shape for the mission’. The wave of smug happiness he felt made his steps light as he made his way towards the dock.

  
  


* * *

To Sanji’s surprise, Reiju tailed him down to the docks. Despite the danger of his mission, he was glad to be getting away from her constant judgemental looks. 

He paused as he looked down at the water slapping gently against the stone dock, took a shaking breath and took a moment to gather himself. All these years and the sight of water still made his knees weak and made him remember the feeling of cold salt water rushing into his lungs.

Sanji turned to look at his sister and eyed her over his cigarette.

“You come to see me off? How sweet.” Sanji said dryly. She hadn’t seen him off since his first mission, before he had sabotaged the only half-decent familial relationship he had left.

“I thought I should, since you’re not coming back from this one.” Reiju said.

“Do you want me to?”

Her expression was impassive, her arms folded over her chest. And yet when Sanji looked her in the eye, she looked away first.

“I didn’t think so.” Sanji turned back towards his boat, so she couldn’t see him clench his jaw. A shard of pain jabbed him in the ribs that had nothing to do with his smoking habit.

He had known Reiju didn’t give a damn what happened to him for some time. He had become the exact thing their mother sacrificed her life trying to prevent, the thing she dreaded the most, and there was no changing that. 

He was about to step onto the boat, before Reiju’s quiet voice stopped him.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

Sanji glanced over his shoulder at her.

“If there’s any of the Sanji I used to know left in you, you would just leave. Find some quiet corner of the ocean and stay there. Unless you really want father’s approval that badly?”

“Why do you care?!” he spat. “What I do with my life is none of your concern!”

The disappointment in Reiju’s eyes became tinged with sadness, but Sanji didn’t care anymore. He’d had enough.

“Goodbye, Reiju.”

* * *

The deep blue bow and wide whale’s grin of the Whitebeards' sister ship greeted Sanji, as he made his way over the cobbled stones of the port. It looked almost like it was mocking him.

He had been on a lot of dangerous missions, and pulled them off with great panache, but this was the number one most likely to get him killed. The consequences of failure hung like a knife over his head. The more he thought about what he was doing, the more impossible it seemed. He adjusted the straps on his pack as he located the gangplank. He had packed little more than a new suit, a single change of clothes, his Seastone knife and somewhere at the bottom of his bag - the canister containing his Raid Suit. Hopefully even if the pirates got a hold of it, they wouldn’t have any clue what it was used for.

His stormy mood contrasted with the blue skies above head, and the cheerful bustle of the docks. Onboard the sister ship, the Whitebeards called to each other as they carried boxes and rolled barrels up the numerous gangplanks. Germa had been waiting for the ship to restock for a while now, and this was Sanji’s best chance to sneak onboard as a member of the crew.

The second division commander was center stage as soon as Sanji set foot on the main deck. Same orange hat and red beads. A red and white band rattled loosely on his wrist as he gesticulated orders at the men surrounding him. 

The briefing Sanji had read over back in the war room told him the 2nd division commander enjoyed a good meal, like any pirate, but also that he had a tendency to fall asleep right after eating, or oftentimes drop off right on top of his plate. 

_Sounds like an utter moron, this’ll be too easy._ Sanji thought, before chiding himself. One of the worst mistakes he could make was underestimating his enemy, especially one with such a high bounty. 

“Hey Marco! You gonna help out around here?” the second division commander bellowed at a man perched at the front of the ship.“You’re not pretty enough to be a figurehead!” 

“Just here to observe, yoi!” Marco bellowed back with a lazy grin. “I’m not obligated to do a damn thing!”

Sanji cursed internally, he hadn’t expected the first division commander to be here, too. Hopefully he would flutter off when the ship pulled out of port. Sanji had done extensive research on the man’s powers, having someone around who could miraculously heal wounds wouldn’t be any good. Sanji paused with his hands on the straps of his pack as he listened to the back-and-forth continue. 

“Yeah well, unless you want my foot _this far_ up your ass, you’ll at least help Thatch with those barrels!” Ace yelled. Marco chuckled distantly, then electric-blue wings filled the sky as he flapped his way down the length of the ship. Sanji jolted as bright embers scattered around him, but they dissipated into nothing as soon as they touched the fabric of his suit. For a brief moment Sanji locked eyes with the first division commander as he flew overhead. Marco’s hooded eyes narrowed in curiosity, his yellow tuft of hair fluttered, then he was swiftly diving, disappearing off to the mess hall.

Dealing with Marco wouldn’t be easy. Sanji put that little problem aside in the back of his mind for later.

Ace noticed Sanji as soon as he approached. He didn’t resemble the old Pirate King very much, maybe a little around the jawline if you squinted.

Sanji hunched his shoulders and put a nervous look on his face, trying to present himself like the apprentice chef he was pretending to be.

“Howdy there, stranger!” Ace called. “You’re a new face!” He strode towards Sanji with a huge grin and outstretched hand.

“Uh, Yeah.” Sanji said, he wasn’t sure how much authority mattered on this ship, and didn’t want to make a fool of himself by calling him ‘sir’. Sanji put on his warmest smile as he shook Ace's hand. "My name is Prince, Mr. Prince. I was hoping to join your crew." 

"Mr Prince, huh? Should I take a bow?”

Sanji chuckled politely as Ace dipped his head while still holding his hand, while trying not to curl his lip. An embarrassed blush rushed into Sanji's cheeks as Ace's lips lightly touched the back of his hand. Every part of his body seemed to glow with heat, his hand a comfortable feeling like being wrapped in a warm woolen glove. His lips felt like touching a radiator and he could still feel the touch long after they left his skin. 

Ace eyed him cheekily as he released his hand, and Sanji had to fight the urge to wipe his hand off on his pant leg. _Don't make me throw up._

"What Kingdom are you from, Mr Prince?" That playful grin curved the corners of Ace's mouth again. 

"Oh, it's just my name. I'm not a true Prince!”

"Aw c’mon, I bet I can guess what kingdom you’re from?" 

Ace rubbed his chin in thought, his thick black brows knitted. "You're not from the Ryugu Kingdom, are you?" 

"I'd have a hard time hiding my tail if I were a mermaid." Sanji said with a shrug.

"I had to ask, cause you're pretty enough to be one!" 

Sanji forced himself to laugh. This filthy pirate really had the audacity to flirt with _him!_ Then he paused to think.

_Wait a second, this is perfect…_

A little casual flirting would be a perfect way to get close to the commander, and Ace was already fawning over him like a lovestruck teen. 

"What about Germa?" Ace said, in the same casual way, but the name still made Sanji suppress a jolt.

Sanji kept his smile carefully set. There was no way this moron had seen through him already. He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Oh no, you got me!”

Ace laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “Of course not!”

He wrapped an arm around Sanji’s shoulders as he started to walk him towards the galley. Sanji was already sick of being touched so much without his permission, but bit back his annoyance.

“So anyway, enough of all that. What can you do?" Ace said.

"I can cook, run and fight. Well, I'm not _much_ of a fighter, but I can hold my own decently enough." 

“I bet you’re being modest! Maybe we can spar later, and you can show me?”  
Sanji nodded politely. He would have to remember to hold back. He didn’t want to reveal _all_ his most powerful techniques right off the bat.

“What about the cooking side of things?” Ace said with a grin, looking like a hungry puppy dog.

Sanji wasn’t sure how to answer that, being the only one who had eaten his own cooking apart from the castle mice. “Well… I wouldn’t call myself an expert - there’s always more to learn!”  
“No pressure, but I’ve got a lot of big hungry boys on this ship. They’re gonna need good nutritious food and a _lot of it!”_

Ace paused with his hand on the galley door with a frown. He stared off into the sky for a few seconds before pushing the door open. “Actually, that’s a _lot_ of pressure, ain’t it? Anyway, after you!”

Ace waved him through the door with another bow, into the crowded tornado of cooks rushing around the mess hall. Despite the noise and chaos, most of the cooks had cheerful grins on their faces as they worked.

“Let me introduce you to the head chef.” Ace said. “He’s not gonna stay here permanently, just until we train a bunch of the other new cooks. Hey, Thatch!”

Ace waved at a man with a bouncing perm of hair in the shape of a loaf of bread.  
“Can I put Mr. Prince here into your care? I gotta go make sure we’ve got all the stock ready and about nine-hundred other things-”

“Sure Ace, don’t worry about it.”

Thatch slapped Ace on the shoulder, and Ace gave him a relieved look in return.“Thanks man!”

Ace disappeared back onto the main deck and Sanji watched his back as he left, thinking vaguely about ways he could take advantage of how distracted he was.

“Sorry you had to arrive at such a stressful time.” Thatch said with a crinkly smile, as they walked into the spacious kitchen. “We’ve gotten a bunch of new ships in our fleet lately, and there’s been swapping of crewmembers all over the place.”

“Ah, it’s no trouble really, I quite enjoy it.” Sanji said.

“Well that’s good, but hopefully things will settle down once we ship out again. I guess I should show you a few things to start off.”  
Thatch busied himself pulling slabs of meat out of the cold storage and lit up the grill. 

"Now, Ace likes his steaks cooked a certain way, this might look a little odd, but _don't question it_!" 

Thatch deftly flipped a hunk of meat in the pan, searing it on the other side until it was burnt black. The smell of chargrilled flesh burned Sanji’s nostrils so badly he had to take a step back from the cooker.

Thatch flipped it again with plate in hand, then set it down on the counter. He grabbed a knife and cut into it, through the charred outside into the red, rare inside. So much juice oozed out of it that it might as well have been just cut off the cow.

_If this is the kind of crap they want me to cook, I doubt I’ll have much trouble._

Sanji thought with his nose wrinkled, he had eaten better looking stuff off the floor.

“You might have to ask around to learn how the other men like their meat.” Thatch said, before waving a spatula at him. “But what about you? We’ve got plenty of ingredients coming in, show me what you’ve got!”  
  


Sanji took his time musing over ingredients, fresh silvery fish and ripe vegetables. It really _was_ a lot of pressure. He picked up a kitchen knife and a particularly plump fish from the fridge. He mostly used knives to cut bloodily into men’s throats, or to cut off their fingers one by one until they bleated out all their best kept secrets... His knife skills were almost wasted here.

_Oh, right._ Sanji thought, remembering what he was supposed to be doing. He sliced into the fish’s belly and watched as the guts slid out. With Thatch’s eyes on him, the growing urge to show off took him. In a few moments, the fish was filleted, potatoes were boiling and he was slicing lemons to make ‘Fish A La Meunière’.

He piled the cooked fish onto a pile of fluffy mashed potatoes and slid it towards Thatch. The man’s thick brows shot up, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully as he looked over the food.

“Well, it looks very nice, but-” Thatch’s eyes widened as soon as he put the fork in his mouth.  
“Is it okay?” Sanji asked.

“Where’d you learn to cook like this?!”  
“Oh, I just read a lot of books on cooking techniques, is it okay?”

“It’s _incredible!”_

Sanji warmed to the praise a little, despite himself. Cooking was something he had put on the back burner of his mind for years now, thinking of food only as fuel to keep him going.

Thatch made rapturous noises as he forked off a few more bites, then he enthusiastically slapped Sanji on the back.

“Heh, I might not have that much to teach you. Unless this is just beginner’s luck!”  
  


* * *

Sanji stepped back onto the main deck with a small sigh of relief. After a long, steamy couple of hours prepping and cooking dinner, Sanji was ready for a smoke. As it turned out, feeding the four-hundred-odd people on board the ship wasn’t easy. He had never really experienced anything close to a real job before, unless you counted political assassinations as ‘work’. 

The ship had pulled out of port while Sanji had been busy preparing dinner, and he was surprised to see how far away the little port town had gotten. The soft orange glow of sunset softened the lights into a vague smear on the horizon.

He snorted as he pulled his lighter and a cigarette out. This had been all so _easy_ so far. 

“Hey Mr. Prince! Need a light?” Ace called, pointing a finger at him.

Sanji was about to form a reply when the end of his cigarette caught fire, then settled to a perfectly lit glow as he inhaled. 

"Nice trick." Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. Ace had incredible control over his powers if he could light a cigarette at a distance without burning him. 

"Thanks! You'll never be hurtin' for a lighter as long as I'm around." 

Ace strolled over to his side and joined him in leaning over the rails, staring out as the ship made a foamy track over the waves.

“Was there something you needed from me?” Sanji said.

"Nah, just wanted to check how you were settling in. You seem a little uncomfortable."

"Yeah, I guess I am. I’ve never been on a ship this big before.”

Sanji took a long drag on his cigarette, using it as free time to think up what kind of a person ‘Mr. Prince’ was. He could think up an appropriate lie in a matter of moments, but it didn’t hurt to get into character. 

He glanced sadly up at Ace through his bangs, then wistfully back out to sea as he exhaled the smoke. “I didn’t exactly part on the best terms with my old crew either. I'm sorry if I seem a little standoffish."

"Hey, you don't have to explain it to me, I understand." Ace said softly, moving closer to him so their shoulders were only inches apart. "It wasn’t easy for me either, when I first arrived. I was the captain of my own pirate crew, before we became members of Whitebeard's. 

"I bit off more than I could chew, and we got captured. The rest of my crew had an easier time finding their feet than I did.” Ace chuckled. “I spent most of my time trying to kill my new captain, you can imagine how well that went for me!”  
Sanji met Ace’s relaxed grin with a tight smile. If only he knew.

“But eventually, after I had time to cool off...” Ace continued. “I realised it was the best thing that could’ve happened to me. I’m glad the old man knocked some sense into me.”

Sanji snorted, barely able to hold back the contempt that twisted his lip. "So you chose to roll over and become another captain’s subordinate? Don't you have any _pride?"_

Ace looked at him with intense stillness.

_That was definitely too mean for Mr. Prince to say._

Sanji took another drag, trying to look demure again. That was too much of a 'Vinsmoke Sanji' comment for him to make right now.

After a few moments of silence, to Sanji’s surprise, Ace smiled.

"Yeah, I did. Having pride doesn't count for much if you're dead, y’know?" 

Sanji felt a flush creep into his cheeks, relieved that he didn't blow his cover, but also annoyed that his jab bounced off Ace's skin so easily. Ace stared off at the stars that were just beginning to appear, the very picture of a man comfortable with his place in the world. "Feeling like you're a part of something bigger than yourself, a big family with the same dreams… I couldn't ask for more."

Sanji thought about Germa, a war machine rolling over islands and leaving destruction in its wake. Being a part of it made him feel powerful, but it never felt like family.

Sanji tossed his cigarette away, as a sudden burning resentment came over him. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling very, very alone, like the night air around him was swallowing him up.

Even if it weren’t his mission, he would probably want to kill Ace simply for the jealousy crashing over him like a wave. It would be a little hasty on his first night, but the temptation made his blood boil.

_Just do it, you fucking coward._

A quick strike at the base of the spine, or a slice across the neck, then kick the body overboard and let the sea do the rest. Not even a Logia user would recover from that. Sanji reached inside his coat and wrapped his fingers around the handle of his knife, feeling the power of the Seastone contained in it. Almost like the cool brush of a sea mist on his face.

The sound of a door banging open made Sanji whirl around, but it was only one of Ace’s crewmates weaving drunkenly over to the side of the ship. 

Ace moved away with a slight grimace, as his crewmate unzipped his fly to take a thundering piss over the rail.

"I hope you find your feet here soon, Mr. Prince. Just come see me if you need anything."

Ace said, heading off to the sleeping quarters. 

Sanji barely suppressed a snarl of anger as his opportunity slipped away. He stared off at the horizon where the black edge of the sea met the paler moonlit sky, and lit another cigarette. He resisted the urge to kick the oblivious drunk over the side and tried to force himself to breathe calmly.

_You’ll get your chance, maybe I’ll do away with Thatch too, before this is finished. That’ll teach them to trust someone like me._

* * *

Night fell, the only time Sanji felt truly in his element. Instead of going to the sleeping quarters with the rest of the men, he snuck off to quickly draw a map of the ship. With his devil fruit safely shielding him from any prying eyes, he started at the back of the ship and quickly worked his way towards the prow. The main commanders seemed to have small cabins to themselves, which was good. More opportunity to get Ace alone.

Sanji was moving underneath the main mast when a voice broke the night air. "I can see you when you do that, yoi!" 

Sanji cursed and craned his neck to look up. The first division commander perched with his legs dangling on the edge of the crow's nest. Fitting place, for a man with huge talons instead of feet. 

"Odd power for just a chef, isn't it?” Marco called. “You gonna serve us some invisible vegetables at dinner?" 

Sanji tried to not let his eye narrow. Observation Haki, it had to be. He should have accounted for that. 

"I didn't know what kind of fruit it was before I bit into it." Sanji said, lying through his teeth. "Given the choice, I'd rather produce fresh pasta out of my hands or something." 

Blue wings burst out from where Marco’s arms had just been, and embers glittered as he flapped down to the deck. He landed with a thud in front of Sanji and smiled, those hooded eyes turning the friendly gesture into a suspicious leer. "And I suppose you're sneaking around in the middle of the night to… Get a midnight snack?" he said with a questioning tilt of his head.

"I like to be alone, I was finding somewhere quiet to smoke." 

Marco's smile grew just a little too wide. "It's plenty quiet right here, isn't it?" 

Sanji said nothing, meeting Marco’s eyes sullenly.

"Why don't you have your smoke and then get to bed, yeah? You have an early start tomorrow, I'm sure." Marco winked at him before flapping back up to the crow’s nest. Sanji caught him casting another quick look down before turning his gaze to the horizon. 

Sanji ruefully pulled a smoke out of his coat, then walked away to the guardrail to light it. It would be a problem if he couldn't even use his damn powers with Marco around. He would have to try something else… Something that involved a surprise attack and locking Marco in the storage deck covered in Seastone chains, no doubt. He made a disgusted face as he swiped the wheel on his lighter and touched the flame to the end of his cigarette. Then it turned into a smile as he started to make plans.

First things first; get the goddamn bird out of the way, by any means necessary.


	2. My name is Shameless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace is growing fond of the new Whitebeard pirates cook, but Marco has doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *walks in drinking a beer, smushes the empty can against my forehead and burps.*
> 
> Chapter. 
> 
> Also hmmmm this fic is getting upgraded to explicit I think. No smut... Mmyet. But there's some sexual stuff. And it's only going to get more explicit after that, so if ur not cool with it please leave now. 
> 
> Tw: hints of past!noncon sorta. More like past sexual coercion?? Idk, assanji has been through some shit.

Ace greeted the new morning with a languid stretch. His initial anxiety over the previous day had passed, leaving him with a low buzz of excitement. It was still unbelievable that Pops had made him a commander, and after not even a whole year of being in his crew!

He'd woken up from a deep sleep full of pleasant dreams and he had a sneaking suspicion that it was something to do with Mr. Prince's cooking. He had never tasted anything so good in his life! He had to thank whatever capricious entity had allowed the man to step onto Ace's ship, rather than someone else's. 

Ace finished his stretch with a happy gasp and let the sun warm his skin. 

Another busy day awaited him. His head was so full of things to do that he wasn't sure where to start. But luckily, most of the men in his command were already veterans of Whitebeard's. They seemed to know what they were doing and Ace was happy to let them get on with it. 

A crowd of seagulls followed the ship, lazily gliding in the wake of the tall sails. The red glow of dawn turned the white fabric pink wherever it touched them. Ace looked up, following the birds until he caught Marco coming down from the crow's nest. A few gusts of warm air hit Ace's skin as Marco thumped down in front of him. 

  
  


"'Morning, yoi." Marco said. "You're going to have to get up a little earlier than that, if you're going to be a _real_ commander." 

"Guess I'm not a ‘real’ commander yet then?" Ace shot back, raising his fists to playfully aim a punch at Marco's shoulder. He grinned as Marco dodged it with barely a twitch of an eyebrow, morphing his fiery body around his fist. 

Marco slapped Ace's fist aside. "Ace, I've been waiting to tell you something for hours now.”

“What’s up?”

“It’s about the new recruit.”

“He’s pretty great, right?” Ace said, with a light flush spreading over his cheeks. “He made the _best_ steak fillets last night! Did you get to try any?”

  
“No Ace, you ate them all, yoi.”

“Oh, oops? Better be quicker next time then!”

Ace nudged Marco in the side with a grin, practically counting down the moments until breakfast. He knew when the first wafts of what Mr. Prince was cooking filled his nose, he’d be tearing off to go and find out what.

Thatch would probably kill him if he was having fantasies about other cooks. The thought made Ace chuckle to himself as he ambled towards the galley. He kept thinking about Mr. Prince's food and his funny curly brow, the way his glittering blue earring matched the colour of his eyes perfectly…

He completely forgot that Marco was trying to talk to him.

“You uh, seem to be getting along like a house on fire.” Marco said as he caught up with him.

  
“Yep!”

  
“Then I suppose he told you he’s a Devil Fruit user, yoi?”

Ace’s grin faded slightly. “What’re you talkin’ about? No he ain’t.”

“I found him sneaking around the main deck late last night when I had first watch. He was invisible. I only caught him with my Haki.”

Ace frowned for a moment, then shrugged. “Maybe he ain’t comfortable about talking about with people he just met? Eatin’ a fruit can be traumatic for some folks.”

"You might be right, but we need to know we can trust new crewmembers before letting them on the ship, yoi. I don't want to baby you, but we've got a lot of people to keep track of." Marco's expression turned disapproving, he folded his arms over his chest, with the look of a nanny telling off a kid for tracking mud through the house. “I'm guessing you didn't ask for his background or what he was doing before coming here, yoi?" 

“Well, I gave him a pretty thorough interview before sendin’ him to work with Thatch.”

Marco's hooded eyes narrowed. “I think I can guess what passes as an ‘interview’ for you.”

Ace laughed and shrugged, with a 'you got me!' tilt of his head. 

Marco rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna take a nap, but keep an eye on him, and try to learn a little more about him if you can, yoi."

"Okay! I will go 'n talk to him right now, so don't lose any feathers over it!" 

"Thank you." Marco said, with a weary sigh of relief.

Ace frowned as Marco sloped off towards the back of the ship to go to his cabin. 

Ever since Ace ate his Devil Fruit, he had become a little flippant about his own personal safety. He had very few reasons to be wary around his enemies, let alone his own crew. Only on a few occasions had he been forced to wake up and remember that he could be hurt, even though his body was made of fire. His fights with Whitebeard sprung straight to mind. 

Ace strode off across the deck towards the kitchens, where their food staff were all busy prepping breakfast. 

Mr. Prince caught his eye straight away. He was easy on the eyes, with silky blonde hair and a funny, curly eyebrow. His tailored suit fit his slim body like a glove; the frilly collar and striped waistcoat gave him a regal appearance that matched his name. 

Ace gravitated over to him as he chopped mushrooms and onions, putting them in a huge stainless steel pot.

"Good mornin', Mr. Prince!" Ace said, leaning over the counter to grab a slice of mushroom.

The cook gave him a gentle smile in return, making Ace’s stare linger for a moment or two.

"Morning." Mr Prince said, shoving the onion off the cutting board and into the pot with his knife. "Breakfast won't be ready for a while longer."

"Ah, I stopped by to chat."

Ace shoved the raw mushroom into his mouth and winced. He didn't want to feel like he was interrogating the guy on his first real day. 

He hesitated for a few seconds with his teeth in his lip. “Hey uh, Prince, is it true you have a Devil Fruit?”

Ace wondered if he imagined the slight wince. 

“Yeah, the Clear-Clear fruit.”

He picked up an onion off the table and turned his hand invisible to demonstrate how he could turn himself, and the vegetable invisible.

“Huh, neat. So, why didn’t you tell me?”

Mr. Prince looked forlorn as he rematerialized the onion, popping it back down onto the counter to start cutting it. “I don’t really like to talk about it. I-I'm sorry." A light blush spread across Mr. Prince's nose. "As soon as I tell people about my powers, they start to get paranoid around me. Like they think I'll start spying on them or acting like some kind of pervert." 

Mr. Prince ran a hand through the back of his hair, then he let it fall as he stared into the pot full of vegetables.

"God, the last crew I was a part of - they all damn near went crazy, even though I promised them I would _never_ use my powers against them! The captain couldn't take it in the end and threw me out. That's how I ended up here." 

Ace’s stomach dropped a little in sympathy, thinking about Mr. Prince being left alone on some island to fend for himself. He couldn’t imagine kicking out one of his own crew, not unless they had committed some kind of terrible crime.

"Your own crew tossed you out, just like that?" 

"Yep." Mr. Prince said, with a wistful chuckle. "I guess it wasn't hard for them, since I've been drifting for so long. I haven't really stayed in one place long enough to get to know anyone that well." Mr. Prince looked down at his feet guiltily. "Maybe now that I've told you, it'll be different here? I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before…" 

Ace blushed as Mr. Prince looked him in the eye. The colour of it was like a lustrous gemstone; what the ocean would look like if you froze it. Ace wanted so badly to see what both his eyes looked like at once. He almost reached out and brushed the bangs away. 

Pinned beneath Mr. Prince’s gaze, he forgot what he was talking about for a few seconds.

“Oh! Uh, i-it’s alright.” Ace stuttered, his face feeling hot. “It’s just that we need to know these sorts of things, y’know? If you fell overboard at any point, we might have assumed that you know how to swim and let you sink!”

Mr. Prince chuckled, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t really like anyone to worry about me.”

"Well, too bad!" Ace chuckled. "We're crew now; we've got to watch each other's backs!"

Mr. Prince smiled slowly, with a twinkle in his blue eye. "You're right."

Ace grinned and reached for another slice of mushroom, before Mr. Prince slapped his hand away.

"Come back later, commander. I'll have a special breakfast for you. It'll be better than raw mushrooms, I promise."

Ace turned to head back outside with a wink and a grin. "I'll hold you to that, my Prince!"

* * *

Sanji took it upon himself to deliver Ace's food to him personally. Fire-Fist was waiting like a happy child with his knife and fork at the ready. Sanji delivered the plate of fried rice with a lightly cooked omelette on top, and a healthy side-serving of meat to Ace with a smile.

Ace devoured the omu-rice in a flash, then soon got to work on the plate of meat.

"Now that you told me about your power-" Ace said, pausing to wipe meat grease off his chin. "You better not go disappearin' on me. I'd be real disappointed after eatin' your food!"

Sanji chuckled, "I wasn't planning on it."

_Not yet, anyway._

Sanji jumped when Ace suddenly face-planted his plate, his hunk of meat still clenched in his fist. Sanji waited with folded arms, deciding to wait to see if these episodes had any discernible pattern. Ace's head popped up again after a couple of minutes, disoriented but straight away taking another bite. 

"Ah, sorry about that! Happens a lot!" Ace said, as if nothing had happened. 

"So I've heard." Sanji said, before realising how weird that sounded when Ace looked at him funnily. "I mean, you're pretty famous for it, you know!" Sanji said quickly, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck to diffuse the situation. He tapped his foot on the deck and looked aside. "Actually this is kind of embarrassing to admit but, the rumours about you are kind of what made me want to join this crew in the first place."

Sanji stared off hard at a group of men playing cards at the prow of the ship, as if he were shy, but really he was silently begging that Ace didn't notice his slip-up.

"Wow, really?" Ace said, tearing another chunk of meat off with his teeth. "I didn't think I was that much of a draw."

"Everyone talks about you, and how you look like you're setting fire to the ocean itself when you fight.” 

His voice turned low and husky, and he turned to gaze off through one of the windows. “I wanted to see it for myself."

A reddening blush appeared on Ace's cheeks, and he put his meat down to wipe his face with a napkin. "That's uh, wow..."

"I'm sorry but I'm so curious!" Sanji sat down across from Ace. "They always say how the government searched for the child of Gol. D Roger but never found him. How did you-?"

"To cut a long story short, my mom hid me in a place she figured no-one would ever look. A tiny island in the East Blue called Goa kingdom. You ever heard of it?"

"Not really."

"Well, there you go! Maybe I could tell you about the rest another time. It's kind of a sore subject."

"Right, sorry." Sanji jolted a little as if he touched a hot pan, then hung his head. He wanted to get Ace to open up to him, to confide in him, but he didn’t want to go the opposite direction and make Ace irritated at him for being nosy. 

Ace stood up, still tearing and sucking the last shreds of meat off the bone with horrible noises. Sanji tried his best to hide a shudder of disgust, making a face at Ace when he had his back turned.

"If you're on break, how's about I introduce you to some of the other crew members?” Ace suggested. “I meant to grab Marco yesterday but he was busy eating birdseed or something."

"We've met already." Sanji said slowly.

Thanks to that stupid blunder he made the other night, he could feel Marco’s annoying, leering eyes digging into his back wherever he went now.

"Oh, right. Well, if he's awake I'll introduce ya anyway. Doesn't hurt to make a good second impression."

Sanji followed Ace to Marco's office reluctantly. He had already started devising plans to get the First Division commander out of the way. If he could wrap him in Seastone chains and lock him in a storage cupboard somewhere, it might keep him out of commission long enough for Sanji to take care of Ace. 

The problem was _how._

"Hey, Marco!” Ace said as he barged into Marco's office. “I feel like you guys should be introduced properly." 

Marco looked up tiredly from his desk. With a nod, he motioned for Ace to get on with it. 

"Mr. Prince, this is First Division commander Marco. Marco - Mr. Prince." 

Ace made a sweeping gesture from his hand over to Marco, then back to Mr. Prince. He then looked between them expectantly, probably wanting them to shake hands. 

Sanji stuck his hand out first, and Marco grabbed it hard. He squeezed down hard enough to make the joints in Sanji’s fingers pop painfully.

After he let go, Marco's eyes slid over to Ace. "Ace, did you discuss that thing I asked you to earlier?"

"Yep! It's all good."

"I see."

Sanji could tell Marco's suspicions weren't going to ease up at any point. To be quite honest, he didn't feel like even _trying_ to cozy up to the guy like he had been doing with Ace.

Even the thought of getting friendly with the man filled him with a disgust that he could barely disguise. 

As they left Marco's cabin, Sanji idly wondered if he could poison him without anyone noticing.

  
  
  


* * *

Ace took his sweet time escorting Mr. Prince on the way back to the galley, walking side by side with him.

"So, that thing that happened when you fell asleep, is that narcolepsy or something?" Mr. Prince asked. 

"Hell if I know. Marco told me it's nothin' to worry about at least." Ace turned to Mr. Prince with a grin. "Before I joined the Whitebeards, I had my own crew and my own ship, the Piece of Spadille. But we didn't have a cook!" 

"You went to sea without a cook?" Mr. Prince’s eye narrowed skeptically. Ace was used to that reaction, a lot of people thought the Spade pirates were a load of idiots for the decisions he made as captain.

"Yeah, it never happened for us. Banshee always did the cooking, but her food was _terrible._ Whenever we managed to get onto land and find some good grub, I would faceplant into my plate just like that. Finally gettin' to eat good food after long days at sea made me so content that I think I passed out from sheer happiness."

"So, you're saying my food was so good you passed out?" A strange expression that Ace couldn’t decipher crossed Mr. Prince’s face, somewhere between delight and anxiety.

"Oh, yeah! I usually don't stay conked out for that long, though. You're a knockout, Mr. Prince!" 

Mr. Prince just looked confused then, turning a bright shade of pink. His mouth formed a surprised 'O'. He quickly flipped his attention back towards the prow of the ship, hiding his face with his bangs. "That's very kind of you to say so." 

A very strong, passing thought of _cute_ yelled at Ace to make a move. 

“You're pretty!" Ace blurted.

"What!?" Mr. Prince growled almost harshly, making Ace take a step back. He probably should have thought about that one a little longer. He wondered if Mr. Prince had some internalised self hatred going on.

"Sorry, I'm not one for subtlety. You're really hot and I'd like to take you out on a date." 

Mr. Prince's stunned expression only spurred him on. "Not around the ship! I mean, when we next have a break, we go on shore leave."

"I-" Mr. Prince's expression changed to the most wonderful, brightest smile Ace had ever seen. 

"I'd love to!" Mr. Prince chuckled and stepped closer, flipping his hair a little and smiling. “Sorry if this is a little forward but, I think I've had a bit of a crush on you from the first moment I saw your wanted poster."

Now it was Ace's turn to blush. "Okay, well-" he said with a chuckle. "-it's a date I guess." 

"Can't wait." Sanji said, his voice dropping an octave and becoming low and sultry. He smirked and walked away. 

* * *

That night, Sanji felt a little weary, both at his tiring new job as a chef and the thought of having to charm Ace at the same time. 

It could be worse. Sanji had _definitely_ been with worse; older, more predatory men and women. But Ace wasn't old nor predatory; he was young and polite and objectively _gorgeous._

Well, even if he had to sleep with Ace to accomplish his mission, it would be an opportunity to get close. Make a few fake noises and call it a day. He could deal with it, just like he dealt with it before. 

He approached the locker room area of the men's sleeping quarters, looking to see if he had a spare box of cigarettes at the handy. He was planning on using the cover of night to investigate the locker decks of the ship, maybe find an unused room he might be able to stash a person in. 

He stepped into the small room and froze, using his power to turn invisible instinctually.

Someone was standing in front of his locker and had gotten it open. 

Sanji was unsurprised to see Marco rifling around in his locker. A bolt of annoyance shot up his spine and he tensed his shoulders.

If Marco was looking for evidence that Sanji wasn’t who he claimed to be, he wouldn’t find it. Sanji kept his raid suit and knife on his person at all times.

Sanji decided to show himself.

"Is it standard aboard this ship to rummage through a crew mate's personal belongings?" 

He said loudly, making Marco crane his neck around quickly to look at him.

"No, just the crew mates who turn up out of nowhere, who seem to be awfully interested in Ace, yoi." 

Sanji smiled and walked forward. Marco was tense all over, his blue eyes seeming to glow in the dark. Sanji could feel power radiating out of him. He had to remind himself that this was the first mate of the strongest man in the world. 

"Just tell me who you really are and I'll drop it, okay?" 

"I'm Mr. Prince. I became deeply enamoured with Fire Fist and joined to fight at his side. Quite romantic, wouldn't you say?" 

"Cut the bullshit! You're planning something. Why else were you sneaking around last night, yoi?" 

Sanji shrugged, as if to say ‘who knows?’.

"Whoever you are,” Marco continued, “You must be crazy if you think the Whitebeard Pirates are going to be intimidated by you, least of all Ace. You might as well spit it out - are you a Marine plant?" 

"What, you jealous or something? I didn't think Ace was into necrophilia." Sanji grinned at the scandalised expression on Marco's face. "Maybe I'd fuck you, if you asked nicely. I'm used to saggy old men taking their frustrations out on me." 

Marco's expression morphed from scandalised, to horrified. 

“Who _are_ you? No, maybe that’s the wrong question, yoi…” Marco’s eyes narrowed further, into dark little slits. “Maybe ‘ _what_ are you?’ is more appropriate, because you’re not really a _person_ \- are you?”

A smile pulled at Sanji’s lips that didn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s a little rude, isn’t it?” He stepped forward and reached up to stroke Marco under his chin, like how one might with a pet bird. The man jolted, stepping back with an agitated look. “What else would I be, if not a person?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

Sanji’s grin turned sharp. “I’m a magician, want to see a trick?” 

He pulled a kitchen knife from his pocket and started twirling it in his fingers, turning it invisible before throwing it into the floorboards at Marco's feet. 

_“Ta-da!”_

“You think threatening a commander of the Whitebeard Pirates is a joke?” Marco growled, lowering his head.

  
“Not impressed? You should see what else I can do with it.” Sanji tilted his head as he stared Marco right in the eye, waiting to see who would blink first.

"Don't push your luck, yoi. I could stomp you and you know it." 

"On what grounds? You're the only one who seems to have it out for me." Sanji’s smirk flashed into something dangerous as he showed his teeth at the old bird. "If you go throwing wild, unfounded accusations and threats at me, what will Ace think?" Sanji continued before he had the chance to speak. "Maybe he'll think you're getting senile? Paranoia can be a sign of early dementia."

He saw a faint glow coming from Marco's narrowed eyes and felt intense heat emanating from around his body. Sanji sauntered out, but he couldn't resist turning around to throw one last comment at him. 

"Maybe you _should_ keep a close eye on Ace? You never know when you'll see him...for the last time." 

  
_That was stupid._ Sanji scolded himself as he slipped off to find someplace to smoke. _He’s going to be on high alert now. How the hell are you supposed to get him out of the way now?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to Eclecticismymiddlename for beta reading and shrimpji chat, I couldn't have done this without yall 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡  
> Also check out some fun art by the always amazing Melanie:
> 
> https://twitter.com/TricksterMelon/status/1302874417123352578?s=20


	3. My name is No-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is in Hell.
> 
> Trying to convince his crew of the danger Mr. Prince poses is harder than he thought, and a routine stop on a Whitebeard Pirates controlled island promises to end in disaster...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to where one half of our main couple is reading a cheesy romance novel and the other lab notes on how to dispose of a body.

Marco hadn't slept. 

He had taken it upon himself to keep watch, even though it wasn't his turn that night. He had stretched out his Observation Haki as far as it would go, zoning in on Mr. Prince and making sure he didn't move from his bunk. For the entire night.

It had exhausted him, to say the least. 

Marco had just about driven himself crazy thinking about what organization would send an assassin after Ace and come up with nothing. Mr. Prince’s - or whoever he was - words rattled back to him, over and over again.

_"Maybe you should keep a close eye on Ace?"_

"That fucking bastard!" Marco muttered to himself through gritted teeth. "I knew he would be trouble from _day one_!" 

When Marco had first locked eyes with the man, he had gotten a cold feeling; like he had been sizing Marco up. Every single interaction since then had only further confirmed his first impression. 

The worst part was, the entirety of the crew were carrying on like nothing was happening. The sister ship sailed on through the grand blue like any other day. Izo and Thatch were clowning around with Ace like they normally would, sat around a low table set against the side of the deck.

The group laughed as Marco approached them with a cup of strong black coffee. His tiredness from keeping watch dragged his hooded eyes down even further. Marco hadn’t looked in a mirror but he was sure his eye-bags were black as night.

Izo was leaning forward to plant a kiss on Ace’s cheek, his red lips leaving a big lipstick print there.

“Hey!” Ace laughed, shoving the man away.

Izo would probably trust what he had to say; Marco and him went way back. Thatch was newer, but Marco had learned to trust him because they became firm friends within a few months.

Marco nodded a greeting at Thatch. "Hey, Thatch, can I talk to you?" The flick of Marco’s eyes silently adding ‘Alone, please’ to that. 

Thatch got the hint and stood up. "What's up, bluebird?" 

"It's about that new chef of yours. What do you think of him?" Marco said as they walked through the crowded deck, full of crewmates enjoying the sunshine. It was turning cooler as they approached the next island, so everyone was out making the most of the warmth before it ended.

"Ah, he's kind of a prodigy!” Thatch said, stroking his pointed beard in thought. ”Everyone loves his cooking; they’ve been coming in nonstop to tell us how good the soup's been ever since he arrived!"

"I see." 

"Good food makes for a happy crew, you know? He's even been teaching our guys a trick or two.”

“What’s he like _personally?”_

"He's a sweet enough kid; a little ornery and rough around the edges sometimes. But he likes a laugh.”

"I need to tell you something, and you're not allowed to look at me like I'm crazy." 

"Uh, okay?" 

"I think that the new chef joined the crew on purpose to try and hurt Ace. Maybe even kill him."

Thatch glanced over at a nearby table, where Mr. Prince was bringing a tray to some of Whitey Bay's crew, a harmlessly goofy smile on his face as he served the ladies their drinks. As Marco watched, he turned a glass pitcher invisible so he appeared to be pouring the drinks from his sleeve. The ladies laughed and applauded. 

Thatch lifted a brow. "We are talking about the same guy, right?" 

"Yes! Thatch, this is exactly what I'm talking about! Joining a member of the serving staff is exactly what a spy would do, yoi." 

Thatch tugged at his beard. "But in that case, you'd think he'd want to fade into the background, not be spectacular at it and draw attention to himself. What gives you that idea anyway?" 

Marco told him about the night he first caught him sneaking around after hours with his Clear-Clear fruit powers, and the encounter in the locker room the night before. Though he kept Prince's more vicious comments to himself. Thatch didn't need to hear _that._

"It was like a switch flipped and he was a different person, yoi." Marco continued. "There's something _wrong_ about him." 

Thatch still had the same casual, cat-like curve to his mouth he always had, but the look in his eyes was grave. The skeptical tilt to his brow told Marco that he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing, adding to the frustrated roil in Marco’s stomach.

"If you're right, and he's not who he says he is,” Thatch said, “who'd be crazy enough to try and kill Ace, anyway?" There was a proud tilt to Thatch's head. "He's the son of the Pirate King - he's made of frickin' _fire!"_

"If he _is_ an assassin, he'll have accounted for that. Keep an eye on him, Thatch. I really need you to be on my side here!" 

"Alright, keep your feathers on! But I gotta ask, have you slept lately? You look pretty wiped out." 

Marco reached up to rub under his eyes, feeling the grit of sleep in the corners. 

Thatch reached out to slap Marco on the shoulder. "Nothing's going to blow up while Izo and I are here. You can take a nap?" 

“Ugh, maybe later.” Marco groaned. 

Thatch walked off, and Marco sighed. He still didn't feel like Thatch was one-hundred percent with him, but it was a start. 

Marco looked over at where Prince had finished chatting with Whitey's ladies, holding his empty tray under his arm. He waited for Marco to lock eyes with him, then smiled, that same cold bastard of a smile he had given him last night in the locker room. 

Mr. Prince sauntered off in the direction of the galley with a flick of his hair. 

Marco glared at his back. As soon as Mr. Prince pulled anything, Marco would be on the transponder snail to Pops. Then they would see if he would still be smug after Marco told Pops that he was trying to kill Ace. 

_Two can play at this, asshole._

* * *

Sanji hummed as he put the empty pitcher down on the counter, leaving it for the team of dishwashers to clean up before going to fill another. The smiles of beautiful ladies always put him in a good mood. Or maybe it was because he was getting somewhere with his mission with Ace? Either way, he was having a good time.

Ace barged into him as he exited the galley with a tray of fresh drinks perched on his fingertips.

“Oh, howdy Mr. Prince! I was just comin’ to see you!”

  
“Coming to get some snacks, I bet.” Sanji said wryly, easily faking a radiant grin.

“Well, that too, if you’ve got any!”

“Give me a moment. I promised Miss Whitey’s crew that I would show them my special new cocktail recipe.”

Ace jogged to keep up with him as Sanji walked back onto the deck, holding one arm behind him like a waiter would.

“I wanted to talk to you about what we talked about. Y’know - going on a date?”

Sanji’s heart gave a weird sideways lurch, making him struggle to remember what to do with his face for a few seconds. He tried to look excited, while starting to feel almost sick.

“Oh?” he said, with a small smile.

“Well, we’re nearin’ this island in Pops’ territory that we usually use to restock. It’s got a load of farmland and these HUGE trees-” Ace’s arm shot up over his head, leaning up on his tiptoes as far as he could. “It’s real pretty! A few of the boys were thinkin’ about stoppin’ there to throw a party, since I just became commander an’ all.”

“Weren’t you stopped at port when you picked me up?”

“Yeah well, can never go wrong pickin’ up some fresh milk and meat. Besides, I'm the second division commander now.” Ace winked. “I figure abusing my power a little is par for the course!”

Sanji chuckled as he placed the pitcher in front of Whitey Bay with a wink, her normally stoic arched brows relaxed as she accepted a glass from him.

“Please, enjoy! You’ve been working too hard, ladies!”  
  


Whitey and her crew gave him their thanks as Sanji shifted the empty tray under his arm. He was free to give Ace his full attention once more. Ace guided him toward the prow of the ship.

“So, this island-” Ace continued, an excited grin on his face. “-has these huge trees! Oh, I meant to ask what kinda weather you like?”  
  


Sanji shrugged; he couldn’t give a shit. “Cold, but not so cold it's hard to do anything. Summer on a winter island maybe." 

“Oh, well that’s good! It’s a fall island, so it should be nice and cool. There are these _huge_ leaves everywhere, and they're usually all these cool shades of orange. I think you’ll love it!”

“It sounds wonderful!” Sanji said, his blood pumping when he thought about getting the mission over and done with. A forest trail would be the perfect isolated spot to pull off a kill and get away clean. 

“Awesome!” Ace said, slapping his hands together before sidling up to Sanji with a begging puppy-dog look. “So, about those snacks?”

Sanji chuckled, giving Ace a sly grin and a hip-check. “You’re giving me a real workout, _commander!”_

As Ace left, he returned to his duties in the kitchen, happily humming as he thought about how he was going to finish the job. Ace was at least more pleasant company than some of the other bastards he had killed, it would be nice to at least have some semi-decent conversation before he sank his knife into his throat.

But for some reason, his train of thought kept going back to cooking with Thatch, serving the beautiful women on the ship and remembering the smiles as they enjoyed the food and drinks he made.

All his thoughts about accomplishing his mission seemed to have been shoved onto the back-burner with one thought replacing them:

_Huh, I’m_ happy?

* * *

They approached the Fall island a few days later, the colossal trees visible even at a distance. Scatterings of orange and yellow leaves glowed against a deep blue sky, and the first cool notes of a fall day filled the air. 

Not that Marco could enjoy any of that. 

The sight of Ace walking down the gangplank with Mr. Prince made him feel sick, exacerbated by the lack of food in his stomach. He promised himself that he wouldn’t eat a single bite of food that Mr. Prince prepared that night.

The Whitebeards soon busied themselves with setting up a campsite, or heading off into the heart of the island to talk with the local farmers. Herds of cows the size of dinosaurs dotted the hills leading up to the forest, with red-brick farmhouses here and there. Everything was enormous on the island, including the sea life. Huge crabs the size of dogs scuttled about on the beach where the Whitebeards were disembarking, skittering away from the men who were already eyeing them up for a barbecue later that night.

Marco shoved one aside with his foot as it crossed his path, his eyes glued to Ace’s back.

His thoughts were moving in circles, like a dog frantically chasing its own tail. 

_Pops trusted him enough to make him second division commander. He’s an adult. He can take care of himself!_

But at the same time:

_Oh god, he’s only twenty! He doesn’t know what’s happening! I have to tell him!_

“Ace, can I talk to you, yoi?” Marco called as Ace headed for the grassy dune that marked the edge of the beach, and the gravel path that led towards the forest. Mr. Prince had a large wicker basket tucked under one arm.

“Can it wait? We’re gonna take a quick walk up the forest trail.”

Marco shot Prince a quick glare.

_I’m sure your boyfriend there would love that; a secluded area with no-one around. Ace’s going to set you on fire once he finds out what you are._

Mr. Prince looked back at him and stared at him unblinking, in a way that reminded Marco of a cat staring down its prey - waiting for it to make the first move. Marco blinked first.

Ace grinned at him. “We’re only going for a lap of the island. I’ll bring you back plenty of firewood.”

"Little early to be shirking your duties, isn't it?" 

“Alright, Mother Goose! You’ll be asking me to put on a sweater and some mittens next!”

“Ace.”

“In fact, I’ll go do that right now!” Ace walked past him with a pointed look, raised brows and a smirk.

Marco cringed at being alone with that soulless creature again, trying to act the way he would with any other subordinate on his ship. “What about you? I don’t recall giving you any time off.”

Mr. Prince smiled at him. “Commander Thatch gave me a list of ingredients that he wanted me to scout for while he goes to talk to the farmers. He wants to test my gathering abilities.” He waved the basket under his arm at Marco. “So, can I get on with it? Unless you want to question Commander Thatch about his own orders?”

“No. That’s fine. Enjoy your _date_.” Marco said, biting off every word. 

Sanji beamed at him in a way that barely toed the line between genuine and mocking, showing off his white teeth. “Thank you, sir!”

Ace bounded down the gangplank, his chest still bare and a red woolen scarf tied loosely around his neck. “There ya go, Mother Goose! I’m all wrapped up and warm - see ya later!”

Marco didn’t often find himself seething and at a complete loss for words, except maybe when a certain red-haired Emperor of the Sea showed up. As he stared at the backs of Ace and Mr. Prince as they walked up towards the forest, he wondered if maybe his worst fears were correct; that this guy _was_ smart enough to murder Ace not a mile away from his crew.

_Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst._

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


If it were possible, the trees were even bigger than they had looked from the shore. When Sanji craned his neck to look up, they seemed to stretch up and up into a vast roof of leaves and branches. Only here and there did a patch of blue sky show through.

The sky peeking through the canopy wasn’t the only shade of blue he could see. Sanji smirked as he caught a glance of Marco’s electric blue wings. He pretended to be more interested in some delicate white mushrooms growing out of a tree, while hoping Marco hadn’t noticed that _he_ had noticed his presence. 

He was certain he could make Marco’s spying work to his advantage. 

Sanji carefully picked the mushrooms off the tree, satisfied that they were of the edible ‘oyster’ variety Thatch had sketched for him on his list. It would be so easy to kill every single one of the Whitebeards at dinner. Maybe slip a Webcap in with a bunch of Morels...

A shout broke Sanji’s concentration, and he cursed as he snapped off a mushroom in a less than elegant way.

“Leaves! Fuck yeah!” Ace cried as he ran headlong into a pile of them. 

The drifts of leaves under the canopy were the size of dinner plates and Ace disappeared completely into them. Sanji walked up and leaned over where Ace had jumped, but couldn’t see a trace of him.

Then the pile shifted slightly, leaves rained down around Sanji as Ace’s head popped out. _“Rargh!”_

Ace grinned and made his hands into ‘claws’. Sanji stood stiff as a board. He had anticipated that Ace would do that from a mile away, yet he couldn’t even act surprised. 

Ace blinked and clambered out of the leaf pile. “What’s the matter? Not having fun?”

“Why is that _fun?”_ Sanji said, tilting his head in confusion. They were only piles of discarded tree matter, probably full of bugs and rabid animals.

Ace met Sanji’s confused look with a baffled one of his own. “You - you never played in leaf piles as a kid? It’s kind of a fall tradition.”

Not unless he wanted to get beaten by Judge for trailing leaf litter into Germa Castle. 

Sanji shook his head.

“Oh. Well, you wanna try it?”

“No, thank you. Seems like a waste of time. I should probably get to my list. You have fun, though.”

Ace dived back into the pile like a swimmer in a pool, filling the quiet forest air with the sound of rustling. Sanji checked the list Thatch had made for him in his neat, loopy handwriting. First up was a type of mushroom called a Morel; a funny thing with a wrinkly, porous cap. The forest was the perfect place to find them, according to his notes. 

Sanji crouched by the trunk of one of the trees, so big it would take him about fifteen minutes to walk all the way around. It was damp enough for mushrooms, but not enough shade.

Thatch's little scavenger hunt at least gave him time to think up how to stick his Seastone knife in Ace's back. Marco was on red alert, and would probably fly over to snoop on them at some point. Maybe tonight would be better, when the crew were good and drunk. 

He glanced over his shoulder as Ace sprang out of the leaf pile like a dolphin. 

Sanji was more interested in the deadly type of mushroom right now. But with a dense idiot like Ace, a poison mushroom would probably just give him a stomach ache. 

Ace jogged up to Sanji, presenting a handful of knobbly and brown objects to him proudly. “Hey, brought ya something!”

Sanji identified it as a truffle with a quick sniff, to some relief. He was worried Ace had found some kind of animal dung. 

_Well done, you have the same skill set as a pig._

“How did you-”

Ace popped it into Sanji’s basket, then wiped his earth-covered hands on his shorts. “Used to dig ‘em up in the forest where I grew up. Rich snobs would sell their grandma for a few slivers of these things.” Ace raised an eyebrow at him. “Guess it wasn’t a complete ‘waste of time’?”

Sanji looked down at his feet, pretending to be abashed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a stick in the mud. The crew I was a part of before I joined you weren’t that much for fun and games.”

“What was your old crew like?” Ace asked as they continued down the trail. 

“Most of them were focused on getting stronger for the New World and nothing else. Sometimes I feel like they only kept me around as long as they did because my Devil Fruit could be useful sometimes.” Sanji kicked a pinecone the size of a football down the path. “They were a bunch of thieves and my power allowed me to get into most places undetected. Then they used the stolen goods to buy weapons.”

Ace grinned and tossed his hair. "Guess I need to show you how to have some fun then?" 

Sanji chuckled politely, the suggestive edge to Ace's voice not going unnoticed. A reluctant part of his mind noted how handsome Ace was, with the dappled sunlight highlighting notes of red and brown in his dark hair. He cleared his throat and looked away, hiding his smile as he turned away to look at a huge deerlike creature bounding away through the forest.

The path opened up onto a large clearing. Sanji didn't realise how high up they had come. He could see the Whitebeard's ship in the distance, dwarfing every other boat in the harbour. Ace sighed as he rested his elbows on the wooden fencing, separating them from a sheer drop off a cliff. 

Sanji wondered if Ace's powers would protect him from being dashed against the rocks. They probably would, so little point in trying. Besides, he didn't want Marco flapping off to warn the rest of the crew before he could figure out an escape route. 

"Beautiful up here." Ace said. "I'm more of a summer guy myself, but the colours suit me fine." 

Ace turned to face him, smiling gently, his face lit by the fall sunshine. A lurch of nervousness went through Sanji as Ace looked at him, his eyes gentle under their hooded lids. He figured Ace was going to try and kiss him at some point, and had been dreading it.

“You remind me of someone, y’know.” Ace said.

“Oh?” Sanji said, trying to inch away from where he almost stood shoulder to shoulder with Ace. 

_Please don’t fucking kiss me. I haven’t had time to mentally prepare._

He was crawling out of his skin at the thought of it.

“Yeah, my brother.”

_Oh, thank god!_

“He had blonde hair, kinda like yours. Used to call him ‘Fancypants’ ‘cause he came from a family of nobles.”

“Nobles?” Sanji mumbled, interest piqued.

“Yeah, he hated them and escaped to live in the forest with me and our brother Luffy. They put all this pressure on him to be cold n’ cutthroat socialites like them.”

“You mean he walked away from them and left?”

"Yeah! I mean, he tried. But they kept tryin' to rope him back in." Ace's expression turned dark, his mouth becoming a grim line. "He ended up goin' back to them, even though they never treated him right, and never cared about him. He was always more of a status symbol - a tool to them."

Ace fell silent, Sanji's mouth had parted as he listened to the story. "Did he ever escape for real?" 

"No. He died soon after that, trying to escape to sea."

Sanji shut his mouth again. 

_No wonder this guy reminded Ace of me. Sounds like there was never any hope for_ him _, either._

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get so grim on you."

Sanji put his hand over Ace's, stroking the freckles there. "It's okay, Ace. I'm glad you told me." 

Ace looked at him heavily, and Sanji looked back. He gave Ace's hand a squeeze and Ace squeezed firmly back, warmth radiating out of his palm onto Sanji's cooler skin. 

Somewhere in Sanji's chest something throbbed with a low, dull pulse. Like the heartbeat of an animal hibernating deep within the earth. 

Ace gave him a lopsided smile. "Let's go enjoy the rest of the walk, yeah?" 

Sanji smiled and nodded, taking Ace's hand to hold when he offered it. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


The clearing had been perfect for Ace to make a move, but something had made him want to slow down. He could tell Mr. Prince was on edge, maybe not used to going on dates. So he had slowed things down a little; tried to get him to open up.

Talking about brothers seemed to unsettle Mr. Prince a fair bit, so maybe kissing wasn’t on the agenda. Not that time, anyway. 

Ace strolled down the path, watching as Mr. Prince veered off to examine some roots growing by a shallow pond. He paused with his hands in his pockets as a dragonfly kissed the surface of the water, sending out a few ripples. Then a rustle of leaves in the canopy made him whirl around.

“Did you hear that?” Ace said. 

Mr. Prince paused as he took off his shoes, preparing to get a look at some plants growing in the centre of the pond. He listened for a couple of moments before he started rolling his pants up to his knees “A bird? Or maybe _Marco_ coming to check on you.” He said, shooting a sly smile Ace's way.

Ace chuckled. “He’s not my keeper. Don’t think he would tail us to make sure we’re not eloping together or something.”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Prince said, smiling as he carefully put his shoes to one side, “I haven’t known him as long as you have but-” Mr. Prince abruptly stood up, wading into the water. “-never mind, it’s not my place.”

Ace frowned. “No, what is it?”

“Well, you’re third in command of the entire Whitebeard fleet, right? Only one step down from Commander Marco, but he seems to treat you like a child.”

“He’s only lookin’ out for me, to make sure I settle in and then he’ll be headed back to the Moby Dick.”

Mr. Prince lightly shook his head. “The more he talks like that to you, the less your men will respect you when you strike out on your own.”

Ace rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. 

That wasn’t true, was it? Ever since he had joined the Whitebeards, they had treated him with nothing but love and respect. Respect that he had earned from fighting with them side-by-side. Would things really change that much once Marco left him to his own devices?

  
“Sorry, like I said; it’s not really my place.” Mr. Prince said quickly. “Forget I ever said it.” 

Ace stared at Mr. Prince’s back as he lightly swept the surface of the water with his hands, flicking bits of pond weed from his fingers as he went.

Another crash drifted down from the canopy above, then Ace caught a glimpse of electric blue and piercing yellow flames fluttering over the canopy. 

“What the - _Marco!”_ Ace yelled.

He folded his arms over his chest as Marco swooped down through the branches in his phoenix form, and landed a little heavily on the ground in front of him. Marco seemed a little out of breath as he shifted back into his human shape. “Oh, Ace - I was, uh-”

“Were you followin’ us?!” Ace spat angrily.

  
“No, I was coming to get you because-”

Mr. Prince sloshed out of the water, handful of roots in hand and a puzzled look on his face.

Marco stood up a little straighter and cleared his throat, turning his flaming wings back into arms. “-You’re needed back at camp.” he finished, in a don’t-question-me kind of way.

Ace scowled at him, thinking that was bullshit. They had barely been walking for an hour. 

“Jeez, we were gonna loop back around and come back as soon as Mr. Prince got the rest of the ingredients for Thatch! What’s your hurry?”

"I promised Pops that I would remind you to check in with him. He's waiting to see how you're getting along."

"It's been like a day and a half since we set off from port. I think he can handle another night." 

“Ace. As your superior I’m not asking you, I’m _telling_ you!”

“Oh, you’re pulling rank now? I see how it is.”

Ace folded his arms and turned towards the path that would take them back down towards the shore.

Mr. Prince raised his eyebrow at Marco. “Guess I’ll put my shoes back on?”

As soon as the three of them set off, Ace let Mr. Prince walk ahead with his basket full of ingredients. “You go on ahead, Prince. You better hurry up and get those to Thatch while they’re still fresh.”

“Sure, Ace.”

Ace waited until Mr. Prince was decently ahead of them, then pulled Marco off behind a tree. “You gonna tell me what this is about, Marco? How long have you been following us?”

“Listen Ace, there’s something you don’t know about him! Last night, I was-”

“I don’t care, Marco! Everyone is startin’ to think you’re babying me!”

“I’m not _‘babying’_ you, Ace. You’re a very capable man and you’re going to be a great commander, but-”

" _But.”_ Ace repeated. “You know anything you say after ‘ _but’_ doesn’t mean anything, right?”

“Listen to me Ace! That guy isn’t who he says he is-!”

  
“No! He told me that this happens to him all the time because of his powers! I thought you of _all_ people wouldn’t be so quick to judge someone before you get to know them!” Ace’s eyes narrowed. "I think I know what this is really about! You think Pops was too hasty in pickin' me to be second division commander!" 

Marco slapped his forehead in frustration. "No! That's not-" 

"Then why do ya keep hovering over my head like this?! You're drivin' me crazy!" 

“He’s dangerous, Ace. I don’t know who he is or what he wants, but he threatened me last night, when no-one else was around. He’s playing on your sympathies and trying to get close to you - he’s _manipulating_ you! Can’t you see that?”

“No, he’s - he’s my friend!”  
  
“No, _I’m_ your friend. And if you trust me at all, you’ll listen to me!”

Ace turned his back on him and marched off down the path, too fired up to listen to what Marco was trying to shout after him. 

Soon, the forest turned back into open fields, where Mr. Prince was waiting with his basket. 

“I thought I told ya to get those back to Thatch.” Ace gruffed at him.

Mr. Prince held the basket closer to his chest and fiddled with the weaved wicker around the handle. He tilted his head, looking worried. “Sorry. I heard shouting, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Ace sighed, feeling a little tension ease out of him. “I’m fine. Marco is just bein’ Marco, that’s all.”

Mr. Prince touched his shoulder and smiled, running his thumb over his skin in a way that gave him a delicious shiver. 

Ace knew dangerous people; a man who could turn his flesh and blood into diamonds, crackshots with guns and masters of the sword. Even Marco himself had one of the most powerful Devil Fruits known to man. On top of that, they were all subordinates of the most powerful man alive. They surrounded him, they were his friends and allies, so he figured he had a pretty good gauge on how to tell who was dangerous and who wasn’t.  
  
  


* * *

Marco was still reeling by the time they got back to the beach, because he had tried his best to get Ace to see his side of things, and he _still wasn't listening._

The rest of the crew had a large camp set up by the time they returned to the beach. They were throwing logs onto a huge bonfire and setting up tents and tables, ready to spend the night relaxing before they shipped out again.

Thatch had already started chopping up the huge crabs that roamed the beach, putting their legs in a big pile ready to be cooked. Thatch nodded at Marco before turning his attention to _him._ “Hey, you’re back early! Did you get everything on the list?” 

  
Mr. Prince grinned as he waved the list at Thatch. “I think so! Plus some bonuses! Ace managed to find some black truffles.”

“Awesome, that should add a bit of kick to our dinner.” Thatch grabbed the list from Mr. Prince and nodded in satisfaction as he glanced down it. “Very nice work! You can go and put the stuff away. I’ll come and get it when we’re ready to cook.”

Mr. Prince nodded with a slight bow. “Of course, sir.”  
  


Marco glared at his back as he followed him up the gangplank and onto the ship. He could hear Ace and Mr. Prince quietly talking up ahead.

“Hey, I’m sorry our date kinda got interrupted. We’re not going to make landfall for a while and this was the only chance we had. I-”

“Oh, don’t apologise Ace! It’s okay! I had a wonderful time. This island really is beautiful.”

Marco scowled at them.

“I’ll have to give you a proper tour next time!" Ace continued. "One time, I tried riding one of those giant cows, it did NOT go well!”

  
Mr. Prince's musical laughter rattled through the air back to Marco, feeling like a taunt even if it wasn't directed at him.

This wasn’t fair. They were talking to each other like they had been friends for years. Ace shouldn’t be trusting this guy over Marco, his own crewmate who he was united with in a bond deeper than blood. What kind of poison had he been filling Ace’s head with while they were alone?

Before he went up the stairs towards the mess hall and kitchen, Mr. Prince turned towards Marco. He looked at Marco like he was struggling to hold back his mirth. He cast a blue eye his way, blue and innocent and pure as the ocean. 

Then his expression darkened the way it had back in the locker room.

He raised a finger, sliding it slowly across the base of his elegant white throat.

Marco saw red.

His talons scraped deep gouges into the deck as he transformed and _threw_ himself at Mr. Prince. A moment of dark surprise crossed Mr. Prince’s face before Marco slammed into him, beating his wings hard as he wrapped one of his clawed feet around Mr. Prince’s neck.

“MARCO!” Ace yelled.

Marco slammed Prince into the floor, skidding several feet as he dug his claws deeper and deeper. 

_Why don’t you fight back, you prick?! Show me how ‘harmless’ you are!_

His claws dug deep gouges into Prince’s shoulder as he stood above him, wings spread wide. A horrible feeling was sinking into him as Prince struggled against his talons, trying in vain to unhook his claws from his skin.

“WHERE IS IT?!” Marco shouted.

  
Prince adopted a fake expression of fear, his eye wide. “Where’s w-what?!”

“Don’t play dumb, yoi! The _knife!_ ”

Ace’s hand closed down roughly on Marco’s shoulder and he pulled him away. His face was all white teeth flashing and angry dark eyes as he shouted into his face. “ _Marco!_ What the hell are you doing?!”

As his breathing fought to get back to normal, he looked around. The crew on deck were all staring at him, or talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers. As Marco’s anger cleared, he realised too late what the sinking feeling was.

Prince wouldn’t fight back, because he wanted to play the victim. And Marco just tossed him a _hell_ of an opportunity.

Marco looked around desperately for someone who would have his back, to understand what was happening. _“Thatch!”_

Thatch had run up the gangplank to investigate the noise. The chef’s eyes were wide as he looked at the blood streaking the deck. Marco’s anger and Prince’s fear seemed to have stunned him silent.

  
“Thatch, you remember what I told you this morning? You’re on my side, right?”

“Marco, I don’t know...” Thatch muttered.

Izo at his side looked equally baffled. He went to help Prince up as he lay gasping and clutching his shoulder, milking the injury for all it was worth.

“I’m alright.” Prince muttered, as Izo offered him a hand up. Blood covered the ruffled collar of his shirt and made a dark stain over the lapels of his suit. 

“Take him to the medical bay.” Ace said. Thatch nodded and went to help Izo support Prince.

Marco stared down at the streaks of blood he had left behind. Ace at least had the sense of mind to drag Marco inside the ship before yelling at him. Ace stared him down, and Marco expected him to explode in anger. 

But it was worse. Ace was deathly quiet when he spoke.

"If you respect my authority as a fellow commander, you'll go back to the Moby Dick and let me handle this. The crew knows what they're doing. Everyone's almost settled down. If anything goes wrong, Thatch is here and Izo is nearby.”

Marco’s mouth fell open. He dug his nails into his fists, not noticing that he still had his claws out from transforming until blood filled his palms. "You're _dismissing_ me?!”

“You’ve been actin’ weird lately but now you’re actin’ fucking _unhinged_ , and I don’t trust your judgement!” 

“I’m not the one being untrustworthy right now!” Marco pointed to the door, in the vague direction of the medical bay. “That’s not a man, he’s a _monster!_ Why don’t you ask him yourself, yoi? Ask him what he said to me last night in the locker room!"

Ace shook his head, then jabbed an authoritative finger at Marco’s chest. “You’re leaving first thing tomorrow.”

Marco flinched like he’d been struck. 

“No, you know what? You’re going to trust _him_ over me, I get it.” Marco shoved the door open and stalked outside. “I’m leaving _now._ I’m going to warn Pops. Go get yourself _killed_ for all I care!”

Out on the deck, Marco spread his wings angrily, regretting the words as soon as he said them. Too late to take them back now. He kicked off into the air and whirled into the direction of the Moby Dick. If Ace wasn’t going to protect the crew, he would do it himself.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sanji, filing his nails: Stop, don’t. Come back.
> 
> You think Marco has that internal GPS birds like pigeons have? I like to think so.
> 
> Thanks to eclecticismymiddlename and the many, many (okay like 4) people who urged me to get back to work on this. I have some crazy shit planned so if you've stuck around and commented so far - thank you! I promise to deliver Pain.
> 
> Also if anyone wanted to see beautiful art of Sanji's vaguely flirtatious threatening of Marco (yes you do, you do want to see this), here you go!!  
> https://watermelon-chan.tumblr.com/post/628850208933085184/sanjis-an-assassin-undercover-marco-doenst-trust


	4. My Name's A Warsong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji is slipping. It’s easy to feel a sense of home and community on the Whitebeard’s sister ship, but it’s not his to enjoy. Soon, he isn’t sure which emotions belong to Mr. Prince and which ones belong to Vinsmoke Sanji.
> 
> He has to act, before it’s too late to go back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: slut shaming! And Deuce. Those two things are not related. Enjoy.

_Help me._

_Someone._

_Sanji lay on the cold stone of some corridor in Germa Castle. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, a bloody chunk torn out of his shoulder. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have lost one of his eyes, too. The side of his face that he usually kept his bangs swept over was a bloody ruin. He could barely see through the fog of a concussion._

_Everything hurt, but he had somehow managed to stumble back to Germa, falling to the floor unable to take another step._

_Footsteps approached where he lay, heavy ones that could only belong to his father._

_He only stirred when Judge prodded him with the toe of his boot._

_"Sanji. Get up, I know you can hear me."_

_He lifted his head, gazing up at Judge through his bloody bangs._

_"Are you waiting for someone to feel sorry for you? You're bleeding all over my floors."_

_Sanji wanted to open his mouth, to beg for his father's attention the same way he might've done as a child._

_Father, please help me!_

_But he didn't bother, knew better than that. He couldn't be weak. He had learned that when Judge had hired someone to knock every Rokushiki technique into him he could._

_It turned his entire body - his pathetic normal human body - into a weapon, because it was get stronger or die. Get stronger or be locked in that cell again with that mask locked over his face._

_Sanji shut his mouth again and started the agonising process of getting up. Thick blood dripped onto the stones from his shoulder. His gloved hand slipped in it as he pushed himself up._

_"Mission report." Judge ordered._

_"Successful." Sanji muttered, reaching into his bloody raid suit and pulling out the small vial of chemicals. He had lost a lot of blood for such a tiny objective._

_Judge snatched it out of his hand and scowled at it for a second, before wiping it off and stashing it in his pocket._

_"Go to the infirmary. I'll expect the details later."_

_Sanji got up. His broken leg dragged behind him as he limped inch by agonising inch._

_He wasn't sure why he expected anything different, after all these years. That maybe Judge would turn out to be a caring parent after all and lift Sanji in his arms to take him to get healed up, or at least call the medical team for him._

_Just for once, to say 'you've done enough, now let someone else take over'._

_The hope that even though he hadn't shown Sanji a scrap of kindness his whole life, maybe if he worked a little harder he could earn it._

_He knew he didn't deserve it, not really. He had spat in the face of his mother's sacrifice, and now this was his punishment._

_Sanji collapsed in the doorway of the infirmary, and he was unconscious before he hit the floor._

* * *

Sanji wasn’t sure how normal people reacted to injuries. He had spent his entire life hiding any signs of injury from his enemies (and his brothers, who circled him like sharks the moment they smelled weakness, emotional or physical).

He quickened his breath as Izo and Thatch helped him towards the infirmary, restricting his lungs of air to make himself seem more panicked than he felt. 

By the time they sat him on the exam table, he felt lightheaded, his ribcage expanding up and down so fast even _he_ could believe he was having a panic attack

Sanji met Izo's eyes. His expression was grim, but Sanji wasn't sure if he had been seen through. He broke eye contact first, clenching his teeth and doubling over as if the pain in his wound was too much. 

The shoulder that Marco had left three deep gouges in was fairly numb from where it had been damaged before. Really, it was nothing compared to the other wounds he had suffered before. 

Some blue haired doctor rushed over to open Sanji's torn shirt and turned to look at Izo and Thatch. "It's nothing too serious. Could you gentlemen clear the room?"

"Sure, Deu." Thatch said, his face strained as he looked at Sanji. "As long as you're okay, kid?" 

"I'm fine." Sanji said, putting a tremble into his voice. "It's fine, really." 

Thatch nodded, tapping Izo on the arm to lead the way out. 

'Deu' leaned over Sanji, his expression hidden under a gaudy blue mask. The sea green eyes under it were laser focused on Sanji's wound as he stitched it up. His backswept blue hair was rumpled from either partying too much, or maybe drunkenly napping in an awkward position. 

Sanji made a pointed whine of pain as the doctor dug a needle in to start stitching it up. 

"Sorry." The doctor said quietly. "Normally, Marco would be here to take off some of the initial damage, but-" 

The door slammed open and Ace stormed through, his face pink. "Goddamn Marco. You should’ve heard what he just said to me. What the _hell_ is wrong with him?!"

"You had a fight. It's to be expected. You're both so hot headed, sometimes!" the doctor chided. 

"Not now, Deu." Ace grumbled. 

Sanji was lucky he was too tired out to smile, otherwise he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stop himself laughing. He had driven a wedge between Ace and Marco _and_ gotten the old bird to flutter off in one fell swoop!

_Dumb pirate trash. They still have no idea what's happening._

"Sorry. I got so distracted that I forgot to even introduce you to my first mate - er, I should say my first mate from when I captained my own ship. This is Masked Deuce, or Doctor Deuce if you want." 

“I’m still your first mate, in spirit if not in practice.” Deuce said, smiling and looking at Ace like he was glowing with holy fire. Ace shot a wry smile back at Deuce and clasped his shoulder in return.

An unpleasant feeling Sanji couldn’t identify wriggled into his guts like a parasite. Deuce was definitely in love with Ace, whether in a romantic way or a kind of devoted crewmate way was irrelevant. Deuce was certainly one of the most important people in Ace’s life, so the specifics didn’t matter. Ace and Deuce, one and two.

Sanji tried to focus as an idea started to take form in his mind, but the unpleasant feeling wouldn’t go away. He had perfect control of his emotions, but this erroneous one bothered him greatly.

Sanji grimaced as he lifted his head to look at Ace. "I'm sorry. I could tell Marco didn't like me from the start. If I said something to set him off-" 

"I don't think it's anythin' you did. Somethin' strange is going on." 

Sanji settled back against the pillows, making himself comfortable as the doctor finished up the last few stitches. 

The other problem was what Marco was going to do now. Although, even if Marco brought backup with him, all they would see was a skinny injured cook, incapable of hurting a fly. 

Sanji let out a hiss of 'pain' as Deuce pressed a thick piece of gauze over his wound and lightly taped it on. Really, he didn’t want this ridiculous doctor putting his filthy hands on him.

"Marco isn't normally this quick to anger." Deuce said, frowning as he snipped off the tail end of the thread in Sanji's skin. "Something is wrong about this." 

Deuce exchanged a look with Ace, a private look of two men who had been fast friends for a long time. Ace gave Deuce a tiny shake of his head, the silent exchange making Sanji rankle. The doctor pulled out a length of white fabric and started to tie it around Sanji’s shoulder and arm in a sling.

_Are we going to have a problem, dear doctor?_

"You should stay here and rest for the night. You must be in a lot of pain-” Deuce said.

“I’m fine. It’s my turn to keep watch tonight.” Sanji said, getting to his feet. 

Tonight would be a _very_ good time to deal with Ace, if he could just get him alone.

Deuce’s brows knitted from behind his mask as he looked up at Sanji. “Please, let me give you something for the pain at least.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need it.”

He could deal with pain; pain and hunger kept him sharp and alert. Judge never kept medication around Germa Castle, since his brothers didn’t get injured. If they ever so rarely did, they never seemed to feel any pain. Sanji had learned to not bother asking, not since-

_Princes of Germa aren’t weak, Sanji._

He lifted his chin as he walked to the infirmary door, but Deuce got there first, keeping his palm pressed against the wood so Sanji couldn’t open it. 

  
“Please, you’re _clearly_ in pain. As your doctor, I insist!”

Sanji stared at the two pills in Deuce’s palm and glared at them. He wanted to ask if Ace’s dear doctor needed his fucking hearing checked. Instead, he snatched them up and put them in his mouth. Deuce blinked at him, brows raised expectantly. Sanji swallowed them reluctantly. Better to take them than to listen to another lecture. 

“Uh-” Ace started, as Sanji yanked on the door to open it, “-if ya want, you don’t have to keep watch. I can give it to someone else if you wanna go get some sleep?"

“No, that’s alright. I can handle it." 

God, he _hated_ doctors. Deuce was starting to become a very, _very_ good candidate for the plan he was cooking up. 

Sanji smiled as he left the infirmary. 

  
  


* * *

After Deuce had cleaned up in his office, he and Ace walked through the droves of crewmembers getting their stuff back on deck. Some of them were still tipsy from having their party suddenly interrupted. A brief talk with Thatch and Izo hadn’t made Marco’s sudden attack feel any less strange.

“He doesn’t seem like a fighter to me.” Thatch had said with a shrug. He was the one who had spent the most time with Mr. Prince so far. “Marco came to tell me that he thought he was some kind of killer.”

“He didn’t even try to fight back when Marco came at him.” Izo added.

Ace had decided that they were getting nowhere standing around talking, then made the decision to ship out. The less time the rest of the crew had to sit around dwelling on the altercation between Marco and Mr. Prince, the better. 

“So. Mr. Prince seems _nice?”_ Deuce said, a questioning lilt to the end of his sentence. 

“Is that a question?” Ace said, before he quietly asked someone to clean up the streak of blood Marco had left on the deck. 

“Well, I’m not really sure what to think, about _any_ of this. You think Marco is sick?" 

Deuce frowned as he watched the crewmate toss a bucket of water onto the deck, then start scrubbing with a brush. 

"Don't know. He hasn't been sleepin' much lately, that's for sure. Haven't seen him eatin' much either." 

Ace remembered the look on Marco's face as he slammed into Mr. Prince and sunk his claws into him. He had looked deranged, like a hawk diving out of the sky to land on a helpless rabbit. His eyes had been bloodshot with exhaustion but also _fury_. 

Why was he so angry at Mr. Prince, to the point where he could've killed him? 

"I'm not going to lie, Ace. I've seen Marco get ticked off. But I've never seen him _pissed_ like that before. I’ve seen him wrist-deep in a man’s chest cavity, the patient moments from bleeding out, and he wouldn’t so much as raise his voice at the nurses. Just what _happened_ between him and this guy exactly?”

“I dunno. He said Mr. Prince threatened him? But that’s a bunch of crap! Who the hell would threaten _Marco?_ ”

  
“That’s what I want to know. Maybe I could ask if he hadn’t flown off. You have a tendency to lose your head.”

“I know, I know!” Ace said impatiently. “I’ll get him on the transponder snail first thing in the morning.”

Ace pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched the blood stain being scrubbed away, gradually watching it reduce to a slight dark patch in the wood. 

Izo yelled orders to pull the gangplank back on board and soon their sails were full as they pulled away from the Fall Island.

Ace quirked a brow at Deuce as they walked to the back of the ship, to watch the twinkling lights of the farmhouses on the island slowly fade into the distance. “You look like you want to say something.”

“I have a feeling you don’t want to hear it.” Deuce said, his eyes fixed on the horizon. 

“I always want to hear it, when you’re saying it. Don’t try to bullshit me, Deu.”

“Everyone says you’re pretty smitten with this guy. You have a tendency to fall for the first pretty face to give you the time of day.”

“Is that why I chose you to be my first mate?” Ace nudged him with his elbow, grinning whereas on the inside he felt something like the emotional version of cramps. 

He didn’t like to admit it, but he felt like he could be a little needy sometimes. His own insecurities told him he was worthless, and anyone who stuck around for more than a week or two had godly levels of patience. It made even basic acts of kindness seem earth-shattering when he was on the receiving end of them.

Finding someone who not only wanted him around, but vocally - enthusiastically - told him so at every moment was akin to being on a drug high.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll grab Marco once things have settled down and we’ll have a logical discussion about this.”

“It would. Thanks, Ace.”

Deuce patted his arm before heading back to his office. Ace turned back towards the chaos on deck with a groan, thinking about the thousand-odd things he had to do now that Marco had bailed. He felt annoyed at how overwhelmed he felt with the man gone.

_I don’t need him. I can do this by myself._

* * *

  
  
  


Sanji was struggling to calm himself when he climbed up to the crow’s nest to start his watch. A blanket and a wrapped lunch were waiting for him when he got up there, probably courtesy of Thatch.

_Wonder if they’re fucking? Wouldn’t be unusual for a captain and a first mate. Must get boring out on the open sea - wait, what am I thinking?!_

Sanji shook his head to clear his thoughts. What the hell did he care that Ace had a friend like Deuce in his life? It didn’t affect him whatsoever. Ace would be dead soon anyway. 

He burrowed into the blanket that had been left out for him and lit a cigarette, preparing himself for a long night.

It wast long before his eyelids started to feel heavy. The damn medication was working _too_ well. The blanket kept him warm and with no pain to keep him awake, he made the mistake of shutting his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again it felt like it had only been a few minutes, but the moon had risen high into the sky, telling him it was nearing midnight.

Sanji jerked upright, only for his hand to brush the bare skin of someone's knee. He was lying across a familiar pair of shorts. 

"Howdy." Ace said softly. As he looked down at Sanji, his hair was framed in silver from the light of the moon, softening all his sharp edges and making him look almost ethereally beautiful.

Sanji's eye was wide as he stared at Ace, furious at how much time he had lost sleeping when he could have been planning his attack. 

"Oh no! I fell asleep?! I was on watch, how could I-" 

"Hey, relax. You're not in trouble. I wanted to make sure you were staying warm up here and then I found you conked out."

Prickles of embarrassment ran through Sanji's entire body as he tried to rise again, but a heavy feeling in his core stopped him. The medication was still in his system and he felt more relaxed than ever.

A strong hand pressed against his back and urged him to lie back down. "Easy. Why not rest a while longer?" 

Sanji grumbled a little, but stayed put. He could feel the chill of the clear night on his face and it made more sense to stay under the blanket until someone else came to relieve his watch anyway. 

He could hear the swell of the waves and feel the gentle motion of the ship. "We're moving?" Sanji muttered. 

"Yeah, I decided to ship out. Best to keep moving in this part of the ocean." 

Sanji pressed his cheek against Ace's thigh and curled into him as he spoke, his body warm as a bonfire. 

"I think I had a bad reaction to those painkillers. I'm not used to 'em." Sanji muttered.

He stifled a flinch as Ace idly stroked through his hair, coming close to the eye he kept covered with his bangs. A pleasant heat flooded his body as Ace rested his hand on the back of his neck.

“I was wondering about that. Why you were so resistant to the idea.”

Shit, this was the part where he had to make up some sob story about his old crew of sea thugs being mean to him or some crap. He couldn’t think through the fog of painkillers. The truth spilled out before he could put a lid on it.

“I can’t be weak.” Sanji said. “Ever.”

“Weak?”

“My whole life I’ve had to be strong; work harder than anyone just to keep up with the curve. I can’t stop for even a second; to stop means death.” Sanji’s voice trembled, he was giving too much, being far too open. “I’m so _tired.”_

“You’re allowed to be weak sometimes.” Ace’s voice was low and gentle as he stroked Sanji’s neck with his thumb. The slight roughness of his hand made Sanji shudder. “That’s what family is there for. To pick you up when you can’t carry on alone.”

Sanji’s fingers gripped the fabric of Ace’s shorts.

Ace’s hand combed through his hair, playing with the silky ends and wrapping them around his fingers. A light sigh slipped out of Sanji as Ace’s fingers sank deeper into his hair and scratched lightly against the back of his neck. It felt _good_.

Sanji rolled onto his back, so he was looking up at Ace, who gave him a little smile. His hands continued their wandering and Sanji leaned back to let him, exposing the line of his throat. Ace curled his hand under his jaw and stroked with lazy sweeps of his fingers.

He had no idea why he was letting Ace touch him like this. Maybe it was that the night was cold and his fingers were warm. But the more he thought about it, when he looked at Ace up close, Sanji could see that he _wasn’t_ perfectly attractive. His nose was long and a little too narrow. He looked goofy as hell when he grinned or fell asleep in his food. It made him more approachable somehow; not the perfect beauty Sanji had first pegged him as. He was so real and too goddamn genuine for his own good.

There was something _comforting_ about him, and somehow he was dragging all of Sanji's walls down.

A voice in Sanji’s head that sounded so detached from him spoke up suddenly.

_What are you doing? He doesn’t know what a nasty, spiteful little creature you are. Even if you left Germa behind you and came clean right now, he would_ **_never_ ** _forgive you._

Sanji sat up on his knees, pushing Ace away and pressing the back of his hand to his forehead at a sudden headrush. 

“Ace, I-”

“It’s _okay,_ Prince.”

Sanji was confused at the insistence in Ace’s voice. It was terrifying, like he had seen right through him.

Ace cupped his cheek and his dark eyes burned. “You’re allowed to want this. It’s _okay.”_

Was he? 

His whole life, Sanji had never been allowed to want anything for himself. The last time he had wanted something, it had all ended in disaster. He wasn't allowed to choose who he slept with, and for a long time, he wondered if he'd lost the ability to desire that kind of thing at all anymore. 

But he wanted this; he wanted Ace. 

Ace’s gentle words froze him where he knelt, and he couldn’t have moved even if he had wanted to as Ace leaned closer. 

He instinctively pulled away a little, making Ace’s kiss the briefest of touches. He hated kissing; he had _always_ hated kissing. But Ace was gentle and confident at the same time, so much so that he found himself leaning into it.

Fireworks were an understatement. Ace pressed him against the wood of the crow’s nest as he deepened the kiss, wrapping one arm around Sanji’s lower back and pulling him close. 

His other hand held the nape of Sanji’s neck, in a way that felt so protective that he wanted to cry.

Sanji felt stupid, so stupid for not realising why he was jealous of Deuce; stupid for letting his emotions get away from him like this. He didn't know what to do with his hands. His arms were fused to his sides and his hands clenched into fists. 

Ace pulled back, quirking his thick brows. He spoke gently, stroking his knuckles down the side of Sanji's face. “You want me to stop? You seem kinda tense.”

Sanji didn’t have the words to tell Ace how much he wanted to be kissed again. He grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, then tugged at Ace’s hand until it returned to the back of his neck where it was before. Ace licked into his mouth and he accepted it completely, his heat sinking into his cold body until it was smothering. 

Sanji's hand came up to rest in Ace's thick tangle of hair, surprised at how much softer it was than it looked. 

Ace pulled up Sanji's thigh so their hips were flush together. Sanji let him. He leaned down to kiss his neck, Sanji let him. Ace was going way too far, drawing moans from Sanji's lips and he was _letting him._

When Ace pulled away, Sanji was _wired_ , face hot and eye wide as he wondered what the hell had just happened. The heat between his legs told him he would have another problem to deal with soon if he didn’t rein it in. 

Ace looked stunned at Sanji’s reaction for a moment, then gave him a lopsided grin. “Sorry, didn’t mean to take advantage or anything.” 

“No, you weren’t.” Sanji said, in a tiny, quiet voice. “Taking advantage, I mean.”

Ace’s eyes flicked openly up Sanji’s body, lingering over his crotch and rumpled collar with his tongue stuck cheekily between his teeth. Ace chuckled. “I ah, better leave you to get on with the rest of your watch. As long as you’re feeling better now?”

“Uh, yeah, much better. Thank you, Ace.”

Ace got to his feet and tipped his hat at him before vaulting over the side of the crow’s nest. A few moments later, Sanji heard his boots thud onto the deck below, leaving him cold and alone, and _painfully_ hard.

  
  
  


* * *

Time crawled by in slow motion. Sanji sat with his eye glued to the horizon as he waited for his watch to be over, chain smoking and trying to forget about the kiss. He wanted so _badly_ to forget how good it felt, but his body couldn’t seem to get the memo.

He trembled with the ghosts of touches; electricity on his lips, vague thoughts about a pair of strong, warm hands relieving the ache between his legs. He held his breath and flexed his thighs tight. 

The pleasure of Ace's warm body and his hands and touch weren't Sanji's to enjoy. 

They were for _Mr. Prince_ , not for him. 

Even though he was a character Sanji had made up, he was starting to _hate_ Mr. Prince. The stupid demure little chef with the tragic past who had Ace eating out of the palm of his hand. _He_ only had to flutter his eyelashes at Ace to get him to love him, while if Ace knew the real Sanji, he would utterly despise him. Sanji couldn’t wait to stop being Mr. Prince and go back to normal. 

Once he killed Ace, Mr. Prince would die along with him. Then he could stop being jealous of a figment of his own imagination. 

A familiar noise on the wind scratched at Sanji’s ears, causing him to turn his head. A noise of something moving through the night air with some speed. As he looked, something heavy landed on the yard-arm. He looked at the dark shape with dread; this was the _last_ thing he needed.

"I see that plucked chicken gave you a little scratch." A voice drawled. "Did that hurt, little brother?" 

Sanji turned on the lantern as the figure approached, illuminating his red clothes like fire. Ichiji said the words ‘little brother’ in much the same way he would say the word ‘tapeworm’. 

Ichiji vaulted from the mast into the crow’s nest, getting far closer to Sanji than he would like. Then again, any distance closer than say, a mile, was ‘too close’. Every single pleasant feeling in his body vanished in a flash and his wound started to wake up again, throbbing in time with his quickening pulse

Sanji glowered at his brother, the night wind ruffling his stupid red hair. "What are you doing here?” 

“I’m _here_ because I want to know why you haven’t killed Fire Fist yet.” Ichiji’s mouth twisted in a smirk. “You want to suck his dick first, like you always do with your targets?" 

Sanji’s foot shot up and slammed into his brother’s throat.

“How I handle the mission is my business, not yours!" Sanji said, he said, biting off each word. Embers flared out white-hot as he ground his heel into Ichiji’s neck, but the bastard still grinned back at him. “Why are you risking getting caught to tell me how to do my job?!”

Ichiji shrugged. “I got bored. Watching you try and get into Fire Fist's pants isn't exactly what I would call _entertaining_. I would rather see them tear your throat out, like the Phoenix almost did."

Sanji lifted his lip in a snarl and spat out his cigarette end. “I _wanted_ Marco to attack me! You're overestimating them! They’re a bunch of drunken, scum-tonguing sea thugs!”

“Yeah, which will make it all the more embarrassing for you when they capture you and you go _babbling a_ bout all of Germa’s secrets.”

Ichiji flapped his fingers up and down, clearly unbothered by the flames licking at his cape.

Sanji slowly put his foot down, knowing that it wasn't hurting Ichiji anyway. He grabbed another cigarette, abusing the wheel on his lighter until it produced a flame. 

“So tell me," Ichiji said brushing embers off his raid suit, "you've gotten as close to Fire Fist as possible. Why haven't you done it yet?" 

“I'm - I'm waiting for the right moment!”

Ichiji threw back his head and _howled_ with laughter, loud enough to wake up the entire ship. " _Right moment_ , sure! That's why you've been simpering around him like a love struck puppy!" 

"It's called _acting,_ you moron!" Sanji spat, while internally thinking, _shit, was it all acting?_

He remembered his heart quickening in his chest in the forest, warm fingers twined with his and laughing at Ace's jokes. Which emotions belonged to him, and which belonged to Mr. Prince? He wasn't sure if he could tell anymore. 

Ichiji continued to laugh, making Sanji glance down to the deck in case anyone had seen his brother. 

Sanji got very quiet, lowering his head and shoving his face close. “Will you shut the fuck up?! Your being here is endangering the mission! Get out of here before someone sees you!”

Ichiji's laughter abruptly stopped. His hand shot out and snatched Sanji by the jaw, making his cigarette fly out. "I'm not the one endangering the mission. You're doing that all by yourself. You’re wasting time, _little brother_." 

Ichiji gave him a withering look from under his shades, then wrenched Sanji’s face towards him. Sanji's hands flew to Ichiji's wrist in a futile attempt to make him stop. "You make a complete _embarrassment_ of us, Sanji. You're too weak for a fair fight, so you do _this_ to get close to your targets." Ichiji's hand squeezed tighter, threatening to break his jaw. "You absolutely _sicken_ me. And I know for a fact that father feels the same."

Sanji ground out a pained cry as his brother's hand closed down even more, until he could feel bone threatening to snap. "I am not _WEAK!"_

Ichiji laughed again, a quiet hollow sound this time. "You don't think father actually expects you to pull this off? All that stuff about finally accepting you as his son? Total bullshit. He wants to finally _get rid_ of you." 

"Shut up!" Sanji growled through his teeth. 

A wide grin stretched across Ichiji's face. Sanji could tell it didn't reach his eyes. "He thought the last mission would finally do it. Imagine his disappointment when you dragged your sorry, half-dead _carcass_ back into the castle.”

Sanji squeezed his eye shut as a tear threatened to squeeze past. 

Ichiji wrenched his face closer, so he could whisper into his ear. "I know you, Sanji. Under that black suit, you're still Germa's Failure and everyone knows it. No matter how hard you try, no matter how much you posture around trying to fit in with us, you'll always be the _dud.”_

Ichiji's rictus grin only grew. 

"Father gave me permission to put you down, you know. If you get caught or compromised-" Ichiji pulled a gun from his belt and pointed it at Sanji's forehead, making a small 'pow!' noise and miming shooting it. "And trust me, I am _living_ for that chance." 

"I'd throw myself into the ocean before I gave you that satisfaction!" 

"I wouldn't mind seeing that, either." 

Ichiji squeezed tighter around Sanji's face, digging his fingers into the joints where his jaw met his skull until one more squeeze would fracture it. Then Ichiji released him, leaving him with aching fingerprints in his skin. 

"I would advise you to make your move, and do it quickly but-" Ichiji made as if to leave, but paused with his foot on the edge of the crow’s nest, “-It doesn’t make any difference to me. I really, _really_ hope this goes sideways. Failure is your birthright, after all. I’ll be watching.”

Ichiji smirked at Sanji before vaulting over the side of the crow’s nest and disappearing over the side of the ship. His boots hissed as he disappeared over the waves.

Ichiji always had to get the last word - the prick. Sanji pulled another cigarette out of his coat and lit it. 

As he smoked, the ache of his brother's fingerprints dug into his skin. If he failed, Ichiji was going to brutally kill him. If he got caught by the Whitebeards, they would lock him up then probably kill him once he told them who he really was. 

_I don't want to kill Ace. But what choice do I have?_

_Should I run away?_

_Or should I-_

He looked down towards the sea. 

_"I wouldn't mind seeing that either."_

_No, not an option. The only option is completing the mission. No matter what it takes._

* * *

Ace stretched as he headed towards his cabin to get some sleep. He felt like a magnet for cuddly crewmates whenever he joined them on a cold night. His Devil Fruit powers meant that he generated warmth without even thinking about it and people cursed with cold hands gravitated towards him. 

Also cats. Cats seemed to like Ace very much. 

Though Ace hadn’t expected Mr. Prince to be so open with him so soon. Kissing him so hungrily like he’d been starved of any human contact like that-

It was sweet. So sweet that Ace had struggled to keep a hold of himself. And yet, there was something so _sad_ about Mr. Prince at the same time; something desolate and injured. 

It had been such an eventful night, Ace was ready to plummet into bed and sleep, but then he heard footsteps thudding across the deck outside. 

Mr. Prince scrambled down from the crow’s nest so fast he almost tumbled to the deck. He almost fell again as he ran to Ace, breathlessly clutching his wounded shoulder. “Ace, someone was here!”

“Huh, an intruder? Why didn’t you raise the alert?”  
  
“I tried, but then he grabbed me and threw me down! He wanted to know where you were and then he disappeared!"

Ace frowned as he reached for Mr. Prince’s face. "He hurt you." Ace cupped his jaw and tilted his face back and forth to look at the bruises on his jawline, bruises shaped like- 

“Are these _fingerprints?”_

 _  
_“He - he roughed me up a little! He hit like a _devil_ !” Mr. Prince smacked the heel of his palm into his forehead. “I’m such an _idiot_!”

“Calm down!" Ace caught Mr. Prince's wrist to stop him from hitting himself again. "What did this guy look like?”

“He was tall, a bit taller than me, and he was wearing all red with a white cape. His hair looked sort of similar to mine, too, but it was red. Like, _blood_ red!”

Ace tried to think. Marco had acted like Mr. Prince had been the one acting suspicious, but could it be that Marco had mistaken Mr. Prince for someone else? 

“Shit, okay uh - go and tell Thatch. He should be cleanin’ up in the kitchen. I'm gonna go find Izo."

"Okay!" 

Mr. Prince nodded and ran off, but Ace couldn’t help but notice him struggling with his arm in a sling. Maybe it was a bad idea sending him off alone. Maybe Marco was right, and Ace just wasn’t equipped to deal with this by himself.

_Pull it together, Ace! Pops trusted you, you gotta trust yourself!_

He tried to not think about how much he wished Marco were here as he charged off, waking up an extremely grouchy Izo who had evidently only just dropped off to sleep. 

"There's trouble, Izzy. Mr. Prince was attacked while he was on watch." 

Izo nodded, his face devoid of makeup and his hair loose around his shoulders. “ _Mr. Prince_ was attacked, again?” 

“Yeah, can you get up?!”

  
“I do not like this at all, Ace.” Izo said, as he shoved his guns into the sash of his kimono. “I want you to stay close to me tonight.”

  
  


* * *

Instead of running off to find Thatch, Sanji made sure no one was watching before doubling back around. Blaming the suspicions on Ichiji had bought him some time. He was almost glad that his brother had given him the bruises. 

_Stupid caveman that he is. I'll fucking show him. I've always had more brains than the three of them put together. I can do this. I'll show_ all _of them!_

A quick visit to the ship's brig had netted him some Seastone cuffs. He could feel the power of them even as he held them away from his body in a burlap sack. 

The hardest part was going to be getting them onto Ace without touching them himself. 

The infirmary was unlocked, but dark and empty as he walked inside. He quickly tossed the sack under the exam table to hide it. 

He paused as he caught his reflection in the mirror. Ugly, narrow-eyed with reddening bruises all over his neck and jawline. He was about to complete his mission, but for some reason, he wanted to turn around and leave. 

Sanji hissed between his teeth, then slapped himself hard across the face. “Pull it the _fuck_ together!” he muttered. 

“Um, are you alright?”

Sanji jerked and straightened up, trying to not look shocked at Deuce standing behind him. It took him a moment to get back into character; Mr. Prince, demure, apologetic - simpering little _bitch._

“Oh, sorry, long night! The pain medication you gave me wore off a while ago." Sanji said, running his hand over the back of his neck and giving Deuce what he hoped was his most winning smile. 

"My shoulder has been aching and itching like crazy," Sanji continued. "I can’t concentrate or even lay down to sleep! I was worried it might be infected, too.”

Deuce turned on a lamp and waved him into a chair with a sigh. “It’s probably not infected. Wounds tend to hurt more and itch when they’re starting to heal.” he explained. 

“Could you check on it anyway? I'm a bit of a hypochondriac sometimes.”  
  


“Sure. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to change your bandages.”

Deuce went to his cabinet full of little glass bottles and examined them in a fussy way. It occurred to Sanji that he didn't really know what Deuce's fighting capability was, or if he could even fight at all. He was Ace's first mate, so maybe underestimating him was a bad idea-

"Ah, found it." Deuce said, breaking Sanji out of his train of thought. He held up a bottle of medication to the light, where it glowed a vibrant brown. "This should be a stronger dose than last time. It will _definitely_ make you feel drowsy, so you should head off to bed as soon as I give it to you." 

Deuce prodded a syringe into the bottle and drew a good amount of the liquid inside into it. Sanji dutifully unbuttoned his shirt to let Deuce unwind the bandages away from his shoulder. A smile found its way onto Sanji’s face as Deuce worked away. He couldn't wipe it off even when Deuce started looking at him like he was crazy. 

Sanji almost snickered out loud. Maybe he was crazy, thinking of Mr. Prince as a person separate from himself. Well, it was time to say goodbye to him. 

This was the moment Mr. Prince died for good. 

"You're in love with Ace, aren't you?" Sanji said. 

Deuce flinched and stared at him with those big green eyes. "He - we are crewmates. Our friendship is too beautiful for me to ever risk spoiling it." 

"There are a lot of ways to spoil a relationship. Sucking him off would _improve_ it, if you ask me _._ " 

Deuce's face twisted into confused outrage, possibly Sanji's favourite expression. 

Sanji reached out and snatched Deuce by the jaw, quick as a snake. "Tell me, doctor, how far are you willing to go for Ace? You want to fuck him so much you'd die for him?” Sanji eyed the syringe Deuce had prepared on the table. "Because I think you're going to make some nice _bait_."

Sanji grabbed the syringe and stabbed Deuce in the neck with it, emptying it completely into the nearest artery. 

The doctor’s eyes were starting to look hazy, and Sanji’s ears filled with the garbled sounds of him trying to say something.

“Shush, doctor shush.” Sanji pressed his finger to Deuce’s lips as he finished pressing down the plunger. “Can’t have you causing a fuss now, can we?”

“Who are you?!” Deuce whimpered, before his body went limp. 

The pair of them both looked towards the door as a thump came from the deck. “Ace? Ace are you here, yoi?”

_Son of a fucking bitch!_

Ichiji was right; he had wasted too much time. Sanji’s hand went to clutch the raid suit in his pocket, popping the canister open. 

The raid suit enveloped his body, darker than the night of a new moon. Deuce stared at him in horror as he stood before him and drew out his seastone knife. A helpless deer standing in the path of a wolf.

“Call to him.” Sanji said, flipping the knife around in his fingers.

Deuce moaned out a ‘no!’ and shook his head. 

“Do it! Or I’ll start cutting pieces off of you!”

Deuce’s pupils turned to pinpricks as Sanji pressed the tip of his knife under Deuce’s chin. “Do you really want your dear captain to find you in here with your fucking throat open!? If you don’t, I suggest you do as I say!”

The doctor’s lips remained pressed into a firm line, going pale with the effort of keeping his mouth shut. Sanji pressed the knife into his throat so hard that blood oozed over the edge of the knife, thick and dark.

“MARCO!" Deuce screamed.

A knock pounded on the door and Sanji disappeared, hoping the power of his suit would disguise himself from Marco’s haki. He dropped Deuce to the floor as soon as Marco burst in. 

He went straight to help Deuce, pulling him into his arms. “Deuce, what the hell-”

Deuce’s lips struggled to move through the thick dose of the drug. “MARCO, BEHIND YOU!”

Marco got to his feet, whirling around to look for him, but it was already too late. Sanji slammed one half of the cuffs around his wrist and locked it with a click. Then he plunged his knife into Marco’s back.

A victorious grin spread across Sanji's face as he delivered a flaming kick to the side of Marco's head, knocking him through the infirmary wall.

Sanji sighed and rolled his shoulders. "About time I got to do that." 

* * *

Sanji had to give Marco some credit; even cuffed and bruised and bleeding, he was still conscious - trying to fight back. Sanji paused with his boot on Marco's neck as he retrieved his knife from his back. Then he grabbed him and started to drag him towards the back of the ship.

"You know, I had _intended_ to use these on Ace. You've really fucked me over, you know that?" Sanji growled, strain in his voice. 

"You want me to apologise?!" Marco gasped.

Injured as he was, Marco was a big man. Sanji was soon out of breath. He was starting to feel like a cat trying to drag a big, fat rabbit back home. Sanji kicked him again and he flew into the back rail of the ship.

Marco’s head lolled on his shoulders as Sanji shoved him up against the carved wooden rail. Like a puppet; a really _ugly_ puppet. 

Sanji was glad he wouldn't have to hear his dreary voice much longer. As Marco lifted his head to look at him, Sanji pulled down his mask and glasses, letting Marco see his face.

Marco puffed out a breath from between his teeth as he flicked his eyes down Sanji's raid suit. “You fucking son of a bitch.”

“Don’t say anything you’re going to regret, _Commander_. Though I must commend you, for a filthy pirate, you’re awfully perceptive.”

“Whatever you’re planning, it won’t work. The Moby Dick has set a course. Pops will be here at daybreak.”

“Pity Ace will be dead by then.”

Ace, who had treated him with nothing but the utmost kindness and gentleness, held him like he was something precious rather than a living weapon to be discarded and culled the moment he put one foot wrong-

"You don't have to do this." Marco said quietly. 

Sanji laughed, as sharp and cruel as the knife in his hand. "You couldn't have picked a more stereotypical thing to say. You're going to _beg_ next?" 

"No, I mean you _don't_ have to do this! If you're being forced to do these things, Pops can help you!" 

Sanji’s grin turned into a glare. "Why do you think I'm being _forced_?" 

"What you said to me the other night in the locker room, about being used to-" 

Marco shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Whatever organization you're from, Pops will forgive you. You can become his son and start again!" 

"I don't need to _start again_!” Sanji snapped, as Marco's words made him feel unsteady on his feet. 

Start again. Have his crimes against the crew forgiven and _start again._ Maybe Ace would even forgive him if he came clean now and released Marco. If he told him about the danger that Ichiji and the rest posed, then got down on his knees and begged for forgiveness-

Sanji shook his head, his hair coming loose in messy strands around his face. “I've worked too hard! I'm _proud_ of who I am! I'm a Vinsmoke!" Sanji realised that his cheeks felt hot and the still night was dipping and tilting around him. He put his foot down, cracking the deck as he repeated. "I'm a _Vinsmoke!"_

"Germa." Marco muttered. "You're from Germa. Fucking _hell!"_

"Yeah,” Sanji said, lifting his head and pushing aside a few strands of hair that had come loose around his eye. "You’re looking at Stealth Black, the son of Judge, a Prince of the Germa Kingdom!"

"What does _Germa_ want with Ace's head?" 

"I'm not explaining myself to _you._ "

Sanji kicked Marco around the face, knocking him onto his back and close to the edge of the ship. 

Marco gasped with pain as his head cracked against the railing. Still, he lifted his face with a savage smile. "It sounds like you’ve been duped? Not even Germa would try and attack the Whitebeard Pirates. They must not care about you very much, yoi.”

_“You don't think father actually expects you to pull this off?”_

Sanji stabbed his knife deep into Marco's shoulder, drawing a snarl of pain out of him. Even the thud of the blade hitting bone wasn't enough to sate him. His knife hand trembled around the hilt. 

“Listen-” Marco whispered, his voice thick with pain, “Sometimes you think you're in a place so bad you might as well be in Hell. But even in Hell, there's a door that opens sometimes - a chance to escape. It could have opened so many times before and you haven't realised it." 

Sanji stared at him, lips pulled back from his face in a grimace. The knife dripped thick globs of blood down his front as he held it aloft. 

How many times _had_ the door to hell opened? Could he have taken the Clear-Clear fruit and run, like Reiju wanted him to? Could he have stolen the Raid suit and used its power to build a name for himself? Maybe even found a quiet corner of the ocean and worked in a restaurant. 

"Please, let us help you." Marco said, taking a pained breath as Sanji yanked the blade back out. "You don't have to do this." 

The new possibility filled him with terror, telling the Whitebeards - telling _Ace_ \- who he really was and laying the truth raw and bare. 

_Who am I, if I’m not Stealth Black? I’m not Mr. Prince. I’m not Vinsmoke Sanji. I’m- no-one. I’m fucking NO-ONE-_

Ace would be repelled. The idea of the one person he wanted more than _anything_ turning away from him in disgust was too much to parse. 

No. He had worked too hard to become a soldier as fierce as his brothers. Suffered too much to prove to his father that his life was worth _something_ . He was going to do this. He _was_ going to prove to them that he was worthy of the name Stealth Black. 

“Yes, I _do_.”

Sanji flew forward with a grunt, stabbing Marco again in the side, the arm, the shoulder again until he was covered in holes. Even then Sanji's anger roiled through him, his breath came in sharp little pants. He shoved the knife back into his belt and forced Marco further up against the railing with his foot. 

"I suggest that you take a deep breath, and hold it." 

Flames flared out from his leg so hot that they streaked the deck with black singe marks. Sanji bellowed as he kicked out as hard as he could, sending Marco crashing through the railing with a terrific splintering of wood. 

His body caught fire, just briefly before he hit the surface of the water. 

Sanji stared through the broken rail, looking over the side of the ship to see him sink like a pineapple-shaped stone. 

He was free to go and deal with Fire Fist now, then he could put this whole mess behind him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TOUCHDOOOOOOOWN!!!
> 
> (I’m sorry marco lmao, and im sorry deuce you don’t deserve to be in my angsty little possum hands
> 
> thank you to eclecticismymiddlename for beta reading <3
> 
> Next chapter is going to be OFF the fuckin CHAIN I hope y’all’re hyped. >:)


	5. My name is Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Whitebeards are under attack by a man identifying himself as Stealth Black.
> 
> Can Sanji kill the only man he has ever loved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be quick by recommending the song I Come with Knives by IAMX which I’ve been informed by Melanie is a popular edgy middle school song but uh, I never heard it before and it’s 100% assanji so. Go listen. 
> 
> Also check out this hilariously amazing fanart by my sweet friend kite here  
> https://cowboyzoro.tumblr.com/post/637941622235168768/skypiea-fanart-for-cowboyzoros-fantastic-fic
> 
> Had a laugh? Good. now settle down because it’s time for shit to get absolutely agonizing, I am holding nothing back here, be warned.

" _Starting clinical trial: overcoming Devil Fruit weakness."_

_Sanji looked down into the tank of saltwater and swallowed. Within moments of being submerged, his body would refuse to move, arms locked at his side and eyes stuck open as he drifted to the bottom of the tank._

_Before he started to drown, a hook would snag around his bandana and yank him back up. The lab techs would poke and prod him disapprovingly, maybe give him an injection before it was back in the tank._

_For hours every day._

_Judge would watch him sink on the other side of the glass, sometimes with his brothers in tow. Their shitty little faces warped and even uglier by the dancing light and prism effect thrown by the water._

_He lost count of how many times he came close to drowning._

_Judge had been getting more and more impatient with it, after endless drug trials had failed and Sanji’s arms were growing scarred from so many injections._

_"There has to be something you can do!” Judge growled, as his small, soaked body was once again dumped on the side of the tank. “You're just not trying hard enough."_

_Sanji hated his Devil Fruit, all it had done was given Judge more of an opportunity to use him as a lab rat._

_“I’m sorry Father.” Sanji said automatically. “I’ll try harder.”_

_The next time he struggled as fiercely as he could, but his body refused to budge. It was the same with all Devil Fruit users, people so cursed that the sea itself rejected them._

_Pity Judge didn't see it that way._

_Sanji fell boneless to the floor as the hook dropped him on the side of the tank again. His lungs burned with saltwater and worse; Judge was getting angrier. Sanji couldn’t bear to look him in the eye._

_A Germa scientist approached Judge, holding out a clipboard. "We're studying the phenomenon as fast as we can sir, but as far as we know nothing has ever counteracted the Devil Fruit curse."_

_"There_ **_has_ ** _to be! I want every available scientist here looking for a way!”_

_The scientist went back to work at their computer with their head bowed._

_Judge fumed as he glared down at Sanji, trying to readjust his sodden bandana. It was black like the rest of his outfit, unlike his previous banana-yellow clothes. Because in Judge's eyes he was going to be Stealth Black some day, and he was damn well going to look the part._

_He felt more like a pile of wet towels as he cringed away from Judge’s growing anger, powerless to avoid the storm coming his way._

  
  


_“This isn’t good enough.” Judge said, his voice clipped. “Princes of Germa are not_ **_weak,_ ** _Sanji. To anything, not fists nor fire nor water."_

_"I'm trying, Father I promise I'm_ **_trying!"_ ** _Sanji coughed as a little water had gotten caught in his windpipe. He kept babbling on._

_"I'm trying to not be so weak, I am! Please don't make me go back in there!" Sanji sobbed as he threw his arms around his father’s legs._

_"Try_ **_harder_** _."_

_Judge kicked him back into the tank, and he sank like a stone._

* * *

  
  


There was something in the air that night, it was too quiet for a start.

The ship moved on through the waves with gentle creaks, lanterns swung back and forth like pendulums, throwing their soft golden light across the polished boards.

Ace could sense the tension in the man beside him. Izo had both hands resting on his guns as they walked under the main mast, and his dark eyes scanned around for some kind of threat.

Ace had asked Mr. Prince to go and get Thatch, but neither of them were waiting on the deck. He figured Mr. Prince was injured and not likely to be very quick about it, but this was taking _far_ too long. 

Then, all at once the silence broke.

A low voice spoke from behind them. “Looking for someone?” 

Izo drew his guns as the two of them whirled around towards the prow.

On top of the figurehead, Ace saw someone who _definitely_ hadn’t been standing there before. A figure cloaked in black, with a black bandana tied around his neck. His face was hidden by a mask and a pair of dark shades, and the sleek curtain of hair that draped over half his face. His uniform blended in entirely with the clear starlit night behind him. If it weren't for the slashes of red and gold here and there, and the flashy gold epaulettes, Ace wouldn't be able to see him at all. 

“Who the hell are you?” Ace said, then his eyes widened as a horrible feeling lurched into his stomach. “Where’s Mr. Prince? Were you the one that hurt him?!”  
  
“He’s dead, I _killed_ him!”

The figure held out his arm and something else materialised out of the dark. A limp body, being held up by his blue hair. 

"DEUCE!" Ace yelled. He stepped forward, only for Izo to throw out his arm. 

“He’s trying to lure you close, stay where you are.”

Ace locked eyes with the figure. "You’re gonna regret bringing Deuce into this!" Ace growled.

"Ooh, you promise?" 

The figure ran his gloved hand over the flesh of Deuce’s throat, Ace could see Deuce’s adam’s apple bob up and down, but he couldn’t seem to move. There was a cut under his chin that was sluggishly dripping blood down his front. 

The figure’s dark sunglasses flashed with moonlight as he turned his head back towards Ace. “Though, maybe _he’s_ not the one you should be worried about.”

"MAN OVERBOARD!" a cry came from the crow's nest. 

Ace caught Thatch's eye as he burst out of his cabin, his anxiety rising as there was no sign of Mr. Prince with him. "Thatch! Go see what's happening!" 

Thatch nodded and sprinted off to the back of the ship. 

Ace turned back towards the figure. “Who the hell are you, what do you want?!” he yelled.

“Who I am doesn’t mean _shit_ , but what I want is _you_.”

_“Me?_ ”  
  


“Your head, to be precise.”

“Ace-” Deuce said, his voice thick and slurred as if he were drunk, ”be careful! He’s Mr-”

The man in black tossed Deuce to the ground, then lifted his leg high into the air. He brought it down _hard_ on Deuce’s sternum. Something broke with a loud _crack_ and Deuce's skin turned the shade of rice gruel. 

Izo tried to warn him as he ran towards Deuce, but Ace could barely hear him. He surged forward with flames pouring out of his body.

“Ace NO- _WAIT!_ ”

Ace pulled his arm back to ready his Fire Fist.

The moment Ace drew close enough to land a hit, something cold and sharp slammed into his shoulder. A feeling of weakness spread through him, his flames died, and he slumped down onto the deck.

_I’m hurt? How can I be HURT?!_

“Seastone?!” he blurted as he picked himself up. The bloody gash in the meat of his shoulder shocked him - he couldn’t remember the last time someone had drawn his blood in a fight.

In his haste to get away, he caught another glancing blow across his collarbone, the tip of the knife inches away from slicing through his throat. 

His necklace was sliced through, and his bright red beads clattered to the deck. 

That could have been his blood pumping all over the deck, if he had been just inches closer. 

Ace thought he detected a hint of smugness behind the featureless black shades and mask as the assassin swept past him.

The assassin disappeared, and a horrible feeling sank into Ace's stomach like he'd swallowed a rock. 

He was _invisible_ , just like-

Ace tried to listen for the sounds of footsteps, but everything had turned dreadfully silent again.

_No, Marco was wrong about Mr. Prince. There’s no way-_

Ace inhaled and threw out a thousand tiny glowing lights from his body to illuminate the entire deck. There was only one way to find out who was under that mask. The floating embers flooded the deck with an eerie green light.

  
“SHOW YOURSELF!” Ace cried, constantly turning and moving to catch any glimpse of movement.

In his haste to scour every corner of the deck, behind the mast and every coil of rope, he didn’t pay attention to what was _above_ him.

Something tore through the air above his head and a sharp blow cracked across his skull. Ace thought about reaching out, to grab his attacker and force the mask from his face - to force him to show himself, if he was really who Ace thought he was, but the thought of that knife stopped him. 

Ace inhaled and threw flames out from his body in a wide arc. Whether they managed to hit anything, he didn’t know; he had to get _away._

He leapt up and loosed a stream of flames to get high up in the air, then he landed heavily on the top of the mast. He cursed under his breath; if they had still been moored at the last island he wouldn’t have any trouble with an invisible foe, he could send out his flames wherever he pleased and burn them to a crisp.

But here in open water? He couldn’t risk burning up the ship. Even though they had done their best to fire-proof it on his behalf.

As Ace’s ears caught the sound of something tearing through the air near him, he gasped and ducked as he felt a blow rush past his ear. He yelled as he struck back with his fire fist, lobbing huge balls of fire into the air. Through his panic, he was almost starting to feel silly, like he was fighting the air itself.

A wheel of flame was cartwheeling down towards him. 

The top of the mast shattered, bringing down one of Whitebeard’s flags with it. Ace swallowed thickly, feeling anger prickle the surface of his skin as he watched the burning flag fall towards the deck.

The assassin reappeared, crouching on the yard-arm like a gargoyle. 

“Oops. Did you need that?”

Ace shot a ball of flame at him, but he slipped off the yard-arm like a scrap of silk and vanished.

Something was happening near the back of the ship, a good chunk of the crew were crowded around, some of them yelling in shock. Ace squinted, it looked like Thatch was dragging something - or someone - out of the water.

He looked away, not having time to investigate. He had to keep moving, keep listening.

He landed on the balcony in front of the mess hall, wishing to hell that he had observation haki like Marco. 

By some shred of luck, Ace caught his attacker’s wrist before the knife could sink into his flesh. He punched as hard as he could and felt something shatter underneath his knuckles. The assassin reappeared, snarling and struggling in Ace’s grip.

A single blue eye looked into Ace’s as the shattered remains of his glasses fell away, the other covered by singed blonde hair.

_A single blue eye_ , pretty as a gemstone, what the ocean would look like if you froze it.

_Portgas D. Ace, you_ **_fucking_ ** _idiot._

“No-” Ace muttered.

_‘Mr. Prince’’s_ lower eyelid crinkled, like he was smiling underneath his mask. “Took you long enough to figure it out. You’re not very _smart,_ are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?!” Ace growled.

“They call me Stealth Black. I’m an assassin, nice to meet you!”

The assassin pulled his mask down to show Ace the sick grin on his face, a trickle of blood leaking out from between his teeth from where Ace had hit him. “I told you I killed Mr. Prince, but not _literally—_ he was never real in the first place! Marco figured it out, he tried to tell you. But you trusted me over your own crewmate!”

To see the face Ace had fallen hard and fast for, grinning like a wolf and having just done _that_ to Deuce…

Ace couldn’t move, couldn’t hear couldn’t _think._

The assassin broke out of Ace’s slackened grip and shoved him up against the wall, his thigh pressing between Ace’s legs. “What’s the matter, you still want to kiss?”

He ran his gloved hand over Ace’s jaw with a smirk. “Or tell me more dead brother stories? I’ve still got a bit of time.”

The assassin’s leg flew up fast and cracked Ace in the chin, then he sprang away.

All concern Ace had for not burning up the ship vanished. 

They darted between the masts, Ace chasing the assassin between them as he sprang away faster than his eye could follow. 

Ace let loose his fire fist as they neared the back of the ship. He caught the assassin’s eye widen before the column of flames crashed into him, sending him straight through the mizzen mast. The light from his attack illuminated the entire sky, and for a moment it was daylight.

The mast held for a moment before the flames took it, then it fell towards Ace. He swerved out of the way before it continued its fall onto the roof of the mess hall. 

Ace was disappointed to see the assassin get up from a pile of charred wood, his hair and suit alight before he quickly smothered the flames.

“You wanted to see me fight for yourself, huh?” Ace called to him, cracking his knuckles. “You satisfied yet?”

The assassin laughed, before throwing himself at Ace once again.

* * *

  
  


Marco was breathing, somehow.

After Thatch gave him compressions to force the water out of his lungs and breathed air back into them, he was bleeding and frozen from the cold water, but still breathing. 

Yeah, still breathing. And ready to tear that son of a bitch’s throat out.

Thatch crouched still catching his breath, as Izo bent down to blast Marco's cuffs to pieces. As soon as they fell away, Marco’s body started to regenerate the damage, shattered bone and torn tissue knitting together all at once. Marco’s face twisted, the rapid healing sensation wasn’t a pleasant one.

"Where's Ace?" Marco muttered, as soon as the pain ebbed away enough for him to speak.

"He's fighting someone on the deck, I don’t know what the hell is going on but-" 

Thatch was interrupted as the mast above them exploded. Shards of wood rained down amongst the crewmembers who had come to help Thatch pull Marco out of the water.

“It’s _him_ , yoi.” Marco growled. “Your _prodigy chef!”_

“What, but-”

“He attacked me and kicked me off the ship. Ace didn’t believe me, and you didn’t either!”

The group cringed and shouted with surprise as the mast crunched into the roof of the mess hall with a terrific bang.

Thatch looked dumbstruck as he turned around, watching the dark figure shoot up from the blackened remains of the mizzen mast to crash into Ace in midair.

“I’m going to help Ace, before he gets his dumb ass killed, yoi.”

More flashes of fire burst through the air above Marco’s head as he limped towards the main deck, coughing and trying to summon enough energy to fly.

_You can’t get rid of me that easily!_

* * *

Fire bathed the deck of the sister ship.

Sanji had flippantly told himself he wasn’t afraid of fire, but actually fighting Ace made him question that. He could see why they called the man a demon, Sanji’s body was already bruised and covered in burns. 

The smoke sucked all the oxygen out of the air and it was starting to slow down his thought process. He pulled his mask back up to try and combat it, then leaned back to avoid another burst of fire.

Ace was wild-eyed as he searched for Sanji, running circles around him and then occasionally darting in to attack. Sanji soon realised Ace was watching the smoke trails shift around Sanji whenever he moved, then attacking in that direction.

_Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought, big guy._

Sanji needed time to think of a new attack plan.

The only way to escape the flames covering the deck was _up_ , he swore as another round of fire attacks chased him up the mast.

By the time he escaped up to the crow’s nest he was sweating. He watched the top of Ace’s head as it darted around trying to figure out where he had gone.

He had gotten Fire Fist bleeding and worn down, that was good, but the man’s dark eyes were still full of light and blinding anger. Sanji would have to fight him for hours - maybe even _days_ yet - if he hoped to drain his energy. 

Sanji’s ankles trembled and his shoulders ached, he was breathing hard; not used to fighting head-on like this. Marco had fucked up his plans, Sanji hoped he had drowned by now, but he couldn’t count on that either.

He tugged his mask down, breathing hard - harder than he ever had before. 

Ichiji stalked towards him from across the top of the mast. “What’s taking so long? You’re almost out of time!”

Ichiji jerked his chin towards a spot on the horizon, where the hull of a massive ship was crawling into view with the dawn. The white whale figurehead could only be the Moby Dick. 

“Do you have eyes in that thick skull of yours?!” Sanji spat. “Can’t you see the fire? 

“Yeah, I can see what a spectacular mess you’ve made. You can’t even get _close.”_

Sanji flung his leg out in an arc at Ichiji’s head, cursing himself for wasting his energy when his brother ducked under it. “I should have killed you in your fucking sleep, _years_ ago!”

“Yeah, but you _couldn’t_ , just like I know you can’t kill Fire Fist.”

Ace looked up towards where he and Ichiji stood, then stared straight at Sanji. Neither of them made a move. Sanji could sense the absolute hurt and betrayal in Ace’s look, and it made all his insides feel twisted up.

Taunting Ace about his brother had been risky, but he had to ruin what they had. Destroy their relationship until there was no way to go back. It was better this way, they were on equal ground now; they both wanted each other dead. 

_Better this way, yeah. Not like it was real, anyway._

He told himself it was just the smoke that was making it hard to breathe. 

Ichiji leaned close, as if he could sense Sanji’s doubts. "You still want to _prove_ yourself to Father, right? So _GO_!" 

He didn’t want to take orders from the likes of Ichiji, but the thought of Whitebeard approaching soon spurred him on. Sanji launched himself back towards Ace with a snarl.

He turned invisible and kicked his way down to the deck, trying to gain enough speed to power up his kick.

Ace met him in midair, crying out as Sanji’s leg smashed into his ribs. At the same time, his fist crashed into Sanji’s stomach. The hit burned and knocked the remaining air out of his lungs, so much so that he wondered if Ace had punched right through his body. 

They fell as Sanji pressed his knife into Ace’s neck, all twisted up as they crashed into the prow. The entire front end of the ship bucked like a stubborn mule, water crashing and hissing around it

Drained of his power, Ace slammed onto his back.

Sanji uttered a laugh as he crouched with his knife braced against Ace’s neck. He had done it! Every cell in his body howled with victory. The kill was his for the taking, one pull of his wrist would end it! He would stroll back into the war room still coated in blood, maybe with Ace’s head in a bag so he could throw it at Judge’s feet.

He had beaten Fire Fist Ace, his life was _worth_ something. He had clawed his way up from nothing and now he was at the top.

One movement and this whole thing would be over.

So why-

Sanji’s grin faded as he stared into Ace’s dark eyes. Why was his arm frozen where it was, why did his fingers clench around the hilt of his blade, but refuse to move?

Ace gazed up at him, no fear in the face of death, but a kind of stern disappointment. Maybe that was the reason Sanji’s victory was rapidly souring on his tongue, even before Ace’s blood soaked his blade.

His victims always either cried or begged, or tried to reason with him like that old fool Marco had, but Ace was dead silent as he waited - as _both_ of them waited - for Sanji to do something.

Ace frowned slightly as Sanji started to shake, a whine escaping clenched teeth as he forced himself to move. Something wet splashed across Ace’s cheeks.

Something Reiju had said to him a lifetime ago rang in his ears. When she explained everything, when she told him what their mother had done.

_"Do you understand, Sanji? You can't let Judge do this to you. Mother gave her life so that you could grow up to be a kind, decent human being! You're not like our brothers, you have empathy - you care so much! You- you gave Mom hope!"_

_"Well I wish I_ **_was_ ** _like them!” Sanji had shot back. “I wish I could do bad stuff and not care like them!”_

_"Don't say that! That’s not what she wanted for you!”_

_"Mother is dead, Reiju!" Sanji said. “What does it_ **_matter_ ** _what she wanted?!”_

_Reiju slapped him hard across the face, and never tried to help him again._

Sanji never deserved even the barest taste of Ace’s affection. He didn’t deserve to win, or anything else, except maybe for Marco and Whitebeard to tear him apart.

More tears splashed across Ace’s face, Sanji couldn’t keep them back.

Eventually something gave and Sanji shifted the knife away from Ace’s neck. He slammed it down with a shout, right into the boards of the deck. He half-collapsed on top of Ace with his hair falling into his eyes and _sobbed._

He respected Ace too much, maybe even loved him, if he was capable of loving anyone.

He couldn’t do it.

"I _knew_ it!”

Ichiji’s voice slithered across to him, low and dripping with venom. Right before the bullet slammed into Sanji’s arm. He cried out more from the shock than the pain at first, then moved to clutch it to stem the flow of blood. 

“I knew you wouldn't be able to do it. You're every bit a coward I knew you were, little _brother.”_

Ichiji thumbed the gun with a loud click. “Now get out of the way. I’ll finish this myself.”

Sanji’s blood splattered across Ace’s stomach as he got up. He looked at Ace one last time before he slunk away into the darkness.

  
  
  


* * *

Ace stared at the empty air where the assassin had been moments ago, he could still feel the indent the knife had left against his throat - the tears on his face. When he glanced down at the deck, he could faintly see a set of bloody footprints walking away.

_Why didn’t he do it?_

He didn’t have time to think about it, because now there was a red-haired weirdo looking down at him with a gun.

Ace scrambled away as the red-haired guy approached, the heels of his palms scrabbling up against the ruined deck. 

At least the assassin wasn’t making _one_ thing up. 

The red guy smirked at him. "You've heard of Seastone bullets, Portgas? Only manufactured in one place. Logia users can die just like any other human being." 

Red pointed the gun at Ace and fired, but Ace felt no pain. 

Had he heard right, that you didn't really feel getting shot right away? But no blood stained his skin and there was no wound on his body. 

The red guy frowned, then looked at his gun as if to see if it had misfired. Then he pointed it at Ace and fired again.

The assassin appeared in front of Ace, two bloodstains soaking through his dark suit. 

"Oh for- Get out the way!" Red snarled.

"No." the assassin said.

A brilliant red light flared from the red-guy’s hand as he flew forward to punch his brother. Blood streaked the deck as the assassin tumbled away.

"What, you're _protecting_ him now?!” Red snarled. “He's a fucking _pirate_!”

Red turned back towards Ace to try and shoot him again, but the assassin dived in front of the gun, taking a third bullet.

The gun clicked empty, and Red threw it aside with a growl of anger.

The assassin staggered to his feet and pulled a cigarette out of his suit. He flicked the wheel on his lighter with a bloody thumb. 

“Tell Father-” the assassin rasped, coughing a little as he exhaled the smoke “-that Germa can eat _shit!_ Tell him... to get someone else to do his dirty work!”

The assassin stumbled to one side. Then, as his knees buckled, Ace heard him mutter. “I'm sorry, Mom.”

The assassin hit the deck with a thud, his blonde hair haloed around his head. 

A pool of blood started to seep out from under his suit. The cigarette dropped from his lips and lay smoking next to his body.

“You-” Red’s hands clenched into fists as he stared at his brother’s body. His cheeks were bright red and his mouth stuttered open and closed. “You worthless fucking _runt!”_

Red moved over to his brother as if to punch his lifeless body, then his gaze shifted towards where a man was limping towards them, a man spitting embers and furiously shifting his arms into wings.

Marco’s eyes widened in shock as he saw the dead assassin on the floor, then locked with Ace’s. "I tried to tell you, didn't I try to tell you, Ace?!" 

Ace couldn't speak. 

_Yeah, you sure did._

Red looked nervous when he saw Marco, then the white prow of the Moby Dick which was now looming over its sister ship like a protective mother over its calf.

“Shit!” Red muttered, as he ran to pick his brother up by the bandana around his neck. Before Ace could move to stop him, he threw himself over the side of the ship and flew through the air, kicking through the air with his strange boots. 

Ace watched them go, then scowled.

No. This wasn’t over, not like that.

He bolted over to where Striker was tied to the ship. Marco flew a few yards through the air. Ace felt a deep pang in his chest when he saw the many, many healing wounds in Marco’s shoulders and torso. He could guess who had put them there.

“Ace?! Where are you going?”

Ace cast him an apologetic look before vaulting over the rail and severing Striker’s mooring rope with a small blast of fire from his fingers.

He kicked Striker to life with flames and followed the distant red shape away from the rising sun. 

* * *

Dawn shimmered over the sandy shallows, reflecting the sky as perfectly as a mirror. 

The third time Ichiji had shot him, Sanji had fallen to the deck and waited for death to take him. He was only nineteen, probably couldn’t be called a man in most places, and yet he felt so _old._ It was time to let go. He had tried to divert the rest of his energy into dying, like the instinct of animals crawling away to find a quiet place to lay to rest.

But, he supposed, he didn’t deserve a _quick_ death. 

Ichiji paused in midair and shook him until he opened his eye. “Oh no, you’re not dying yet! Wake the hell up!”

Ichiji threw him into the water, not deep enough to drown him, but deep enough to start draining what little energy he had left. 

Sanji wailed as Ichiji slammed down onto his back with all his weight, pressing his boot into the wound in his side.

“We were SO CLOSE!” Ichiji bellowed. “We almost had the head of the son of Gol D. Roger and - you? I knew you would find some way to fuck this up, but you were _crying_?!”

Sanji grimaced as the boot ground down, until the edges of his vision were white with pain.

“You actually have feelings for the bastard, don’t you!?” Ichiji grabbed him by the hair and forced his face into a shallow pool to try and drown him, just like they were kids again. Like they were playing some silly let’s-kill-Sanji game, dunking his head into the mud and beating him with practice swords.

Except this time it was very real.

He always knew Ichiji was going to kill him, it made his idle threats feel like some sort of objective fact. The pressure on Sanji’s neck lifted and he pulled his face out of the water with a spluttering cough. Ichiji was distracted by something.

Something fiery was streaking out of the dark ocean towards them.

_Ace?_

He couldn’t possibly have come to save him, not after everything he did. So why-

“Your _boyfriend_ is here, looks like he wants to go another round. If you’re not up for it, maybe I am.”

“No!” Sanji muttered, before Ichiji stomped him back into the wet sand.

Ace rushed over in a burst of flames, finding a dry part of the sand to skid to a halt. “Get away from him!" Ace shouted. "I'm taking him back to my ship to be judged by Whitebeard!" 

Ichiji laughed. "No, you're not. He's my brother, and I'll deal with him as I see fit." 

He yanked Sanji upright by his face, his fingers dug into his skull and burning heat seared out from his palm. Sanji closed his eye. He had never taken a hit from Ichiji's red spark attack before, not this close anyway. 

Ace ran forward, fire spreading from his fingertips. "STOP!" 

As Ace's fire met Ichiji's red spark, a white flash lit up the sandy shallows. Ace was thrown through the air, Ichiji bellowed as flames surrounded him. 

Sanji only hoped this meant he could die in peace. 

  
  


* * *

Ace snorted awake, reaching up to swipe drool off his chin. He blinked and yawned, looking up through a low, leafy canopy of twisted trees. 

There was a gap in them, presumably where he had fallen through, that showed the sky a rich deep blue. It felt like midday, spring on a summer island. He could guess that much, but had no idea where he could be. 

As he pushed his way through the underbrush, the memories of the previous night crawled into his head like a hangover. He wanted to suppress them and keep them back, if only for a little while.

He hadn't noticed in the dull light of dawn, but the shallows were part of the crescent shape of a small island. The beach he had been standing on before stretched for a few miles in either direction, reflecting the light so brightly that Ace had to shade his eyes. 

Then he caught sight of the black lump still lying in the sandy shallows. 

Ace scowled at the bloody, bedraggled assassin, the foamy surf breaking around him came away pink and the sand was dark red. 

Ace approached cautiously, as if the assassin was about to spring up and attack him again. Ace rolled him over to look at his face, his odd curly brows knitted in a frown and his mouth twisted in a grimace. His sodden blonde hair clung to his neck and around his face, his lips cracked and dry.

Ace considered turning back towards the island and leaving him there. He had no obligation to help the guy who had tried to slit his throat only hours ago. 

And hurt Deuce and Marco. And lied. And lied and lied and _lied._

But then-

To Ace’s surprise, the assassin stirred and blinked, looking as surprised as Ace was for him to still be breathing.

“Hey. Why’d you save me?” Ace demanded.

The assassin's eye flicked around, taking in his surroundings tiredly. He groaned a little before muttering. "What’re you talkin’ about?” 

“That red guy was about to shoot me, but you stepped in the way! You tried to kill me, so why the hell-”

“Who said I did it to save you?” the assassin growled, trying to drag himself out of the pool of water on shaking arms before slumping back down. “I decided that I’d had enough, and I wanted to spite my brother one last time before I died. That’s all.”

“Right, whatever.” Ace folded his arms over his chest.

The assassin pulled that damn seastone knife out of his belt, then tossed it towards Ace. His voice was wobbly with pain and exhaustion. “Now that you know the truth, you probably want to put me down. Go on, do whatever you want. I don’t have the energy to fight you back.”

Ace looked at the knife, then huffed. "What, you want me to kill you?” 

Ace took a step towards the knife, then picked it up. The knife he had specifically carried around to stab Ace with the entire time they had been together. He looked at the sharp edge of the stone, where blood had seeped into it. 

The assassin fell half onto his back, with his pale throat exposed. Ace remembered sitting in the crow's nest, running his fingers along that same beautiful throat.

“You're a pirate, aren't you? You’d be doing me a favour at this point.”

Ace glared back at the knife before winding his arm back and throwing it into the sea with a grunt. "Maybe I don't wanna do you a _favour!"_

The assassin watched the knife vanish into the ocean with an expression of shocked fury, then he turned to Ace with a glare. “I was going to _kill_ you!” he snarled as he pushed himself up onto his elbows with a groan. “You bought that whole sob story with my old crew kicking me out - that was _bullshit!_ I’ve been playing you from the start. You thought I was some _sad, broken_ little thing you could fix somehow? Well guess what?! You’re just _game_ to me.”

Ace felt an angry flush creep up his neck. 

The assassin flashed him a savage grin. “I never thought one of Whitebeard’s commanders would be such a gullible _moron!_ Your _Pops_ must be senile if he thought trusting you with your own ship was a good idea, only that bird brain Marco suspected me, and you didn’t listen to him! Some _family_ you make!"

Ace stared at him evenly, knowing full well he was trying to make him angry - to lash out, maybe even to kill him in a fit of rage. “Are ya done?”

The assassin deflated, losing his spiteful grin. He got quieter. “Please. You don’t know what it’s like. I’m only here because - well, you saw - Ichiji was going to kill me if I fucked up, I had no choice. I’m in pain here-”

Ace crouched into a squat and leaned back on his heels. “So, you caused this whole mess, and now you don’t want to face the consequences?"

Ace canted his head to the side, then prodded the assassin in the forehead. "Well no, sorry, but you don’t get that. I'm not giving you the easy way out!"

Ace stood up and brushed the sand off his shorts. "I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do; once we get off this island, I'm gonna take you back to my crew and then Pops is gonna decide what we're gonna do with you. He's not gonna be happy about what you did to our ship.”

“You mean what _you_ did, oaf!”

“Oh and you can be as mean to me as you want, but I wouldn’t stoop so low as to kill you. Pirate ain't synonymous with murderer."

Ace turned around, hopping over a pool of water to head back to the forest. “I’m gonna find some stuff for your wounds, but I wanna know one thing; what’s your real name?”

The assassin's blue eye flicked up to Ace’s face, but couldn’t meet his gaze. "It's... Sanji." 

Bitterness spiked Ace's words as he walked away. _“Howdy,_ Sanji.” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all good?
> 
> Big thank you to kiite for beta reading!! 
> 
> Okay since this is probably the last thing I’m going to upload before the year is out I wanted to say; if you’ve made it through this dogshit year I am so, so proud of you. You’ve made it. I hope y’all have a wonderful crisis and I’ll see you on the other side. <3 yeehaw baby

**Author's Note:**

> POLLY WANNA FUCKING dIE????
> 
> Okay okay realtalk I was gonna go deep, dEEP into this version of Sanji’s backstory with Germa and how he got the fruit and yadda yadda but honestly? It was too fucking depressing and I didn’t want to bog down this fun story about murder with it, so it got jettisoned. Will it ever come up? I think we all know the answer to that!
> 
> (maybe)
> 
> Also I know OP doesn’t go into trauma that much, but why aren’t more dF users afraid of the ocean? Fucking people like Ace are “water? De nada bro *does a kickflip on Striker* yeehaw lmao”
> 
> ALSO ALSO check out Melanie's wonderful art that stared this whole mess here! This is what Sanji's Raid Suit looks like in this AU, cause capes are really impractical I'm sorry.
> 
> https://watermelon-chan.tumblr.com/post/187813339640


End file.
